


The Serpent and The Dragon

by BrittySauce



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe- Magic, Black Lion- The Black Pheonix, Blue Lion- The Serpent Lion, Elemental Magic, F/M, Hunay, M/M, NaNoWriMo 2019, Post-War, Pre-War, Red Lion- The Dragon's Fire, The lions are sailing ships, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 57
Words: 147,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittySauce/pseuds/BrittySauce
Summary: Lance Mcclain is many things. He is a pirate, a captain, a friend to half of the royal family and a tool to the other, a water mage, and a ladies' man. But there is one thing he is not, and that is a fool. It's no secret that the Empire of Daibazal and the Kingdom of Altea are on the brink of war. And through blackmail, Lance is made an unwilling pawn of Princess Romelle, soon to be General of the armed forces, right hand of the true heir, Princess Allura.On the other side of the mountains that divide the two kingdoms, there is another, an old nemesis of Captain McClain.Captain Keith Kogane. Pirate, fire mage, and a free man shackled by chains of brotherhood. He had no choice but to work for the Emperor, because if he didn't, the one who raised him would fall victim to the Arena. However, just because Emperor Zarkon has Keith's neck in his grasp, doesn't mean that Keith does not fight back. He works as a double agent for the Kingdom of Altea.It is up to the two of them to save the four kingdoms from ruin, perhaps at the cost of life, limb, and even secrets.
Relationships: Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Nyma/Rolo (Voltron)
Comments: 312
Kudos: 213





	1. Ice Dome

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Hello! 
> 
> Welcome to my magic pirates au! The story is already a quarter done as of originally posted, but I will only update a chapter every week. For The Serpent and The Dragon, posting will be every Monday at 5pm central. Please subscribe, kudos, bookmark, and especially comment! I will try to keep up with replies to every comment but I promise nothing. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the story!

"Attack!" Lance calls out to his ship crew, the waters choppy with the commotion of a battle. The Serpent Lion is under attack by an old nemesis of of Lance's, the Dragon's Fire. Led by none other than the Dragon himself, Pirate Captain Kogane. 

Lance can see him through his spyglass, standing on the railing of his ship. Lance adjusts so he can see Kogane in detail, despite knowing already what look he has on his face. A smug, know it all smirk. And Lance is right. On the railing of the ship, one hand holding on to a rope so he doesn't tumble into the raging waters, the other holding his own spyglass up to his face. Kogane must see him, because he lowers his spyglass and gives Lance a two fingered salute. The motion is mocking, since that’s _Lance's_ thing. 

Lance lowers his spyglass, compacting it and putting it away, and turns away in one motion. He won't let that bastard see Lance falter. Not until the battle is decided. 

"Ready the fire cannons!" Lance calls out, raising one hand, fingers splayed wide to point towards the fire magic users on his ship. "Bolster the defenses!" 

His crew don't even stop to shout an 'aye Captain!'. They just do what he says, not wasting any precious moments. They will need it. Lance's ship is still recovering from the _last encounter_ with the Dragon's Fire. Lance keeps shouting orders, trying to keep the Dragon and his crew from being able to swing over to his ship. They have far better training than Lance's crew, so a battle face to face now would just result in the same thing it did the _last_ two times. 

The ship tilts as a blast of fire hits the hull. Lance stumbles down the steps of the quarterdeck as the ship rocks, nearly throwing himself off the ship to see the damages. Lance snarls in anger as he sees flames rising from the bottom of the hull where his ship was hit. Lance goes to jump off of the ship and into the water when a hand grabs him by the wrist.

"What are you doing!?" His first mate, Hunk, yells at him. There's a small burn on his cheek where fire magic singed his skin. Lance yanks his hand out of Hunk's grasp and jumps. 

The water is ice cold, winter making the water so cold even Lance shivers from the temperature. And Lance's specialty is ice and water magic. Lance sinks low beneath the surface before the shock of hitting water fades. With gritted teeth he forces his magic into the water, and raises it with him in the center. The water swirls around him, propelling him to the surface, icy water stinging at his cheeks. 

He breaks the surface with a gasp, and keeps going. He's two hundred feet in the air, just below the surface of the main deck when he sends himself flying to the ship's damaged hull. The water follows with him, splashing into the fire and putting it out, but Lance is moving too fast to avoid slamming into the wood. 

The water falls back into the ocean, separating the two ships with the force. Lance freezes the water on his skin before he falls, cementing himself to his ship. When he catches his breath he forces more magic through his finger tips, and a sheet of ice surges across his ship. Over the hole Kogane's attack made, under the water, around to the other side and then thickening to make an ice dome. 

Lance screams out as the magic is stretched more than it should, and just barely avoids passing out. When the ice dome is completed Lance wrenches his hands from the ice one by one to climb up onto his ship. The climb is short but it feels like he's climbed a mountain when he's finally reaching his hand up the railing. 

Hunk brings him to the deck without hardly a grunt of effort. 

Hunk smiles at him in relief. Lance wrenches his lips into a smile in return. Around him the battle has ended, and Lance thinks for a split second that his crew won. Then Hunk gives an apologetic look, and steps out of Lance's way. Behind Hunk is Kogane, standing in blood red clothing like the scales of a dragon, one hand gently placed on the hilt of his sword. 

Lance's smile drops.

Lance straightens to his full height, the only current advantage he has on the enemy pirate captain in this moment. He shivers, cold, his muscles freezing to the bone and his magic worn thin to keep the ice dome intact. Lance steps forward from the railing, his shoes making a squelching sound unpleasant both to the ears and to his feet. 

Kogane starts a slow applause. 

"Very Impressive McClain." Kogane says, and what _really_ pisses him off is it doesn't sound sarcastic or mocking. Just impressed. What a jackass. 

"That means _so much_ coming from _you."_ Lance snipes, and he goes to move forward as if he might attack. Though whether he would have or not remains to be seen as his legs give out from under him. His head pounds and Lance feels his magic crack. He can't let it go until the hole is patched or his ship will sink. 

Hunk catches him just before he hits the ground but Lance slides out of his grasp to hit the floor anyways. He fights back nausea as he forces more magic through his finger tips to strengthen the cracking ice. His hands glow faintly from the amount of magic he's using, a pretty blue that reminds him of the sea he loves. 

The ice climbs just over the edge of the deck, a line of ice creeping from his fingers to connect with the ice dome so he has better control. 

"Lance! You're using too much magic!" Hunk yells, falling to his knees beside Lance. His hands are raised in worry but not touching him, hovering over Lance’s form as if unsure whether to draw back or to take hold.

"McClain you might be strong, but keeping a spell up so long will only hurt you." Kogane scolds. _Scolds._ Like Lance is a _child._ Lance bares his teeth, a tremble in his arms to match the shivers beneath his skin. He raises his eyes in a glare and Kogane actually looks kind of intimidated. 

"Take what you want. Leave me to save my ship from sinking if you don't mind." Lance grits out, and then yells in pain as his magic cracks beneath the pressure of the ocean. He reinforces it despite the warnings he's been told by his own worst enemy.

"Somebody go patch those holes or so help me I'll send every last one of you overboard!" Lance yells. Tears form in his eyes, but with so much magic exuding from him, the tears of pain freeze to his face. His crew, despite being held at sword and gun point, rush below deck to adhere to Lance's orders. 

"I suppose I should be going then." Kogane says, almost uncertain. A crack in his magic bigger than ever sounds, the noise reaching all the way to the top deck. Lance whimpers in shame when he can't patch it. His arms tremble but he doesn't collapse, not yet. 

"Dammit, go help them!" Kogane yells, apparently to his own men. He turns to Lance and takes a knee before him. "I may not like you Captain McClain, but I don't want death. Just your cargo. My men will help save your ship and then we will be on our way."

Kogane walks off without another word, presumably back down the planks connecting the two ships. Soon someone rushes on deck to tell Lance the holes are patched where the water might flood in. Lance collapses face first onto the wood deck, and a loud shattering of his ice is the last he hears. 

The last he thinks of before giving into unconsciousness is an oath for revenge.


	2. Wakey Wakey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wakes up

Lance wakes up in his cabin on the ship. It's dark outside, so the only light is the crystal in his room, illuminating his room in a soft blue light. Lance turns his head to the side, to find Hunk asleep in his desk chair, pulled up next to the bed as close as possible. His head is back, tilted on the back of the chair, and his arms are crossed. His mouth is open to let a trail of drool and soft snores escape. 

Lance smiles at him. 

Hunk is his best friend, and Lance hates that Hunk chooses so to be so far away from the Earth just for him. Fire magic is the only magic you can easily create out of thin air, whereas water, earth and air you draw from around you. Lance has the ocean, but Hunk is the only earth magic user on his ship. 

Of course Lance tries to accommodate him as much as possible. 

Lance shakes his head at the poor guy, who looks like he's one violent snore away from falling to the floor. He doesn't fit right in Lance's chair because he's so big, so he looks squished when he sits in it.

Lance eases up off the bed, careful to move slowly so it doesn't creak. He's still wearing his pants and loose peasant shirt, but no boots or his favorite coat. One of the water users must have pulled the water from his clothing because they're dry but stiff. 

Lance slips on his boots and coat, situated where Lance always keeps them at the end of his bed, and slowly opens the door. He only opens it a crack, just enough to slip through. Lance breathes a sigh of relief when he walks away from his room without anyone the wiser. A cool breeze drifts across him, bringing with it the saltiness of the ocean air. 

Lance walks around the main deck, finding most of his crew have gone to bed. The ship is eerie when it's so quiet. It has to be just before sunrise begins if it's this quiet. 

"You really shouldn't be up and about Captain." Someone says in a gravelly voice. The shock of it makes Lance jump and spin around, reaching for a sword that isn't there. No one is behind him so he looks up instead. 

In the crow's nest sits Rolo, feet propped up and the only thing visible to Lance from below. Lance rolls his eyes. 

"I'll do what I want Rolo, and what time is it? How long did I sleep?" Lance calls up. Rolo retracts his feet, and leans his body over the edge of the nest. He props his head up on his hand as he calls down to Lance. 

"It's almost morning, and it's been two days. You used a lot of magic just for a ship, Captain." Rolo teases. His smile is lazy, his gold tooth glinting. Lance cocks his hip with a smile as he calls back to him. 

"Well you know what they say. A captain always goes down with the ship and I'm not so ready to die just yet." 

Rolo laughs heartily. "Coulda fooled us!"

Lance shakes his head and turns to walk away, deciding since it's been two days he could use some food in his belly. Hopefully Cook has some leftovers. 

Lance ducks down the steps to the forecastle. 

The crew sleeps below him in the berth, so he makes sure to walk lightly and not make any noise to wake people up. He makes his way to the kitchens, and finds that Cook is already awake. Cook is a big guy, who makes some decent food but is no match for Hunk, and even Lance doesn't know his real name. 

Cook lights up at the sight of Lance and performs a Hunk worthy bear hug.

"It's about time you woke up Captain!" Lance wheezes for a second until Cook puts him down. "Hunk has been running us like a drill sergeant to make sure the ship is in peak condition for you when you woke up."

Lance raises his eyebrows in shock and disbelief. If Hunk was so strict that means his worry meter was at an all time high. About that moment there's a blood curdling scream of his name on the top deck. Lance knows who it is before he even sees the man. 

"I should go calm Hunk down. Later Cook." Lance says. As he starts to leave Cook draws him back by the arm and gives him a sandwich out of nowhere. Lance smiles gratefully and shoves it into his mouth as Hunk yells again. His crew start coming out of their bunks bleary eyed but ready for a battle. Which the only battle there will be at the moment is the battle of calming Hunk down from his worry. 

Lance races past them with his sandwich hanging out of his mouth. 

Hunk is on the top deck yelling Lance's name, and Lance can hear Rolo cracking up laughing in the crow's nest. Lance is spotted the moment he steps onto the top deck, and then he's wrapped up in a bear hug all over again, but this time with Hunk babbling in his ear at top volume.

"Why would you just leave without waking me up? I was so worried! I thought maybe you had been kidnapped or maybe you actually died two days ago and nursing you back to health was a hallucination! Or what if you tripped and fell when you woke up, what if you-" Hunk babbles, and Lance squeezes his arms out of Hunk's grasp to take the sandwich out of his mouth to speak. 

"Hunk I'm fine! Really! I was just hungry calm down. I'm not so easy to kill you know." Lance says. Hunk whimpers into Lance's shoulder and Lance sighs. 

"There there big guy, I'm sorry I worried all of you." Lance cooes to Hunk, patting him on the back and quietly easing his sandwich into his mouth so Hunk doesn't hear him chewing. Rolo dies laughing again. His crew begin to file out onto the top deck, snickering to themselves when they see Lance just chowing down on his sandwich while Hunk blubbers into his shoulder. 

Lance's feet don't even touch the ground.

Hunk finally sets him down and wipes away his streaming tears, while Lance just continues to finish off his sandwich casually. Hunk notices this and glares at him. 

"Are you seriously eating while comforting me?" Hunk demands. Lance shrugs, popping the last bite into his mouth and speaking with a mouth full. 

"Hey man, a guy's gotta eat. Comforting or not." Lance replies. Hunk huffs at him but smiles gently anyways. His crew takes this moment as a cue to surround Lance to welcome him back from the living dead. 

Someone claps him too hard on the back and nearly sends him to the floor. Lance laughs it off as he rolls his shoulder back. The jeers and shoulder claps keep up for a good few minutes before Lance decides to end it before they start throwing a party and getting drunk when they should be sailing and getting to work. At some point in all this the sun has breached the ocean line. 

"Alright alright you bunch of hoodlums get to work! We need to sail north back into Altean waters so we can dock and restock the supplies Kogane and his crew took from us." Lance commands, adding a little extra spite on the enemy Pirate Captain's name. 

His crew breaks apart the crowd to get to work even though it's earlier than usual, thanks to Hunk waking everybody up with his panicked yelling. Lance climbs up the stairs onto the quarter deck and takes the wheel, waiting for everyone to get ready to sail, without even needing direction. Hunk directs them anyways. 

When the anchor raises Lance checks his compass, turning the ship ninety degrees to the right to head dead north. They _had_ been on the way to Olkarion and Balmera, two small countries off the coast of Altea and Daibazal respectively. Olkarion to stock up on some new technology the King bartered for, and Balmera for some crystals to light the ship at night. 

The crystal in Lance's cabin is one of the few left with power on the ship and they need to stock up on more since the second encounter with the Dragon's Fire ended up with no crystals left to use on the ship. 

Lance whistles to Hunk to get his attention. 

Hunk hears it and climbs the quarter deck, allowing the water mages to propel the ship forward at their own discretion. "Yes Captain?" Hunk asks, and Lance rolls his eyes. Hunk only uses Lance's title as Captain when Lance does something stupid that upsets Hunk. He does it to remind Lance that he has responsibility. 

"Don't call me that. And take the wheel, I need to change into a less stiff outfit. This one is giving me a rash." Lance says. Hunk laughs at him but does as commanded and takes the wheel. Lance scrambles down the stairs to his room to put on something less itchy.


	3. Meeting with the Royals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance meets with the royal family and is given a new mission.

The Serpent Lion docks in the port at sunrise the next morning, Hunk having taken the night shift for steering the ship with two or three wind warlocks to keep the ship sailing forward. Even if only slowly. 

They wait for the rest of the day crew to wake up before getting off the ship so Lance can tell them his usual speech. No bar fights, unless someone else starts it, be back on the ship by morning, don’t destroy the capital city again. The works. 

For some reason they usually get Lance into trouble with the King, like they do it on purpose. Lance steps on to the dock in his finest outfit, something bright blue and sparkly and as formal as he’s willing to get. Shay, Lance’s royally appointed handler, meets him at the end of the dock with a smile. Lance smiles at her but her eyes are all for Hunk, who shuffles behind him to keep with Lance’s smaller strides. 

Lance looks back at Hunk to see him blushing. 

“Hey Lance, hey Hunk, you guys are back early.” Shay greets them. Shay is a big girl with dark skin like mahogany wood and bright green eyes that remind Lance of emeralds. Her hair is just as big as her personality. 

“Not by choice I’m afraid. The Dragon’s Fire raided the ship and nearly sunk us into the ocean.” Lance explains. Shay frowns with a worried look, and Hunk jumps in to comfort her. 

“But it’s okay! Lance made a huge ice dome around the hull of the ship to stop the water and kept it there until the holes could be patched up.” Hunk explains. He doesn’t go on to explain that Lance was unconscious for two days for it, but Lance won’t make Shay more worried than she has to be. 

“Anyways, I feel I need to report to the King since I’m here anyways. You mind accompanying us so the guards don’t accost us?” Lance says, turning on the charm to get her to agree. Shay rolls her eyes, knowing fairly well that the guards wouldn’t step against Lance at this point. His face is well known in Altea since he befriended the Princess and she got her father to allow them to be pirates _for_ Altea instead of against. 

“Oh of course Captain McClain, wouldn’t want you to have any troubles in your travel to the castle.” Shay replies dramatically. Even going so far as to delicately place a hand against her cheek in terror. Hunk sighs behind him when she smiles as bright as the sun. 

“Shall we then?” Lance asks, bowing and allowing her to pass him. She does as directed, and when Hunk steps to follow, Lance nudges him in the side. “Take her arm lover boy." 

Hunk’s eyes widen and he hisses at Lance to be quiet. Lance crosses his arms and gives him a pointed look. "Do it or I will.” Hunk looks at him with a glare. 

“You guys coming?” Shay calls over her shoulder, a good few feet ahead of them. Lance gestures for Hunk to take her by the arm and escort her to the castle. Hunk huffs and rushes ahead. Lance watches fondly as Hunk shyly rubs the back of his neck and offers his arm, not even looking at Shay.

He misses the bright red blush that darkens her cheeks and the even brighter smile that lightens her face. Lance walks a few feet behind them and watches in content as they talk and giggle with each other. The two of them are adorable together, practically courting but not officially because they’re both shy.

The walk to the castle gates flies by and soon Shay leaves them with a smile. Hunk gets brave for a moment and kisses her hand goodbye, and watches as she squeaks and runs away with a love struck smile. Lance laughs and slings an arm over Hunk’s shoulder, which is an awkward angle to reach but totally worth it in Lance’s eyes. 

They are greeted by the Princess herself, Allura Altea, the third of her name. She wears a blue dress that flows to the ground and trails behind her just slightly with pink accents and long sleeves. The dress is her favorite because it’s the most casual one she owns. If it was proper for a princess she would just wear a loose peasant shirt and tight pants, but if her father were to see her like that he would scold her gently (after he looks at her with love and pride, which actually never goes away when Allura is around). 

Lance bounds up the long steps and kneels at the Princess’ feet, a hand over his heart and the other taking her hand to kiss. Allura rolls her eyes as he looks up at her with a charming smile. 

“Your highness, what a magnificent sight for this weary Pirate. Truly an honor to behold a beauty such as yours My Princess.” Lance lays it on thick, and goofy smile at his lips. 

His flirting is more playful instead of charming since he sees Allura more as a friend and vice versa. Allura slips her hand from his grasp and flicks him in the forehead. He makes a wounded sound like he had been struck through the heart with a bullet. 

“Enough Lance, stop being so dramatic. Though seeing you so soon was unexpected, I was happy to hear your return.” Allura says, her smile quirking her lips to the side. “The castle has been almost boring without you here to ruffle the court’s feathers.”

Lance rises to his feet as Hunk catches up, slightly out of breath. 

“Why of course it has, I’m the life of the party Princess.” Lance says, wiggling his eyebrows to make her giggle. She always says he looks funny when he does that. His self satisfaction is justified when she laughs like he had wanted. 

“I’ll escort you to my father then, so that I may keep you on a leash and not let you torment the staff.” Allura teases. Lance makes another wounded sound as they start to walk. 

“How dare you, I am a delight!" 

They take a few more turns before reaching the main hall, Allura and Lance bantering back and forth. As they approach the Throne room, Allura subdues herself. Lance understands why she does that, the court is a minefield of drama and as future Queen she can’t allow people she doesn’t trust to really see the real her. It would be political ammo and Allura wants to start her Queen-ship with no issues to deal with. But that’s still a few years away. She’s only eighteen, she hasn’t even been crowned Heir Apparent yet. 

Which it’s only between her and her cousin Romelle. However Romelle is a free spirit who doesn’t want a crown of thorns to keep her tied to the castle. Every once in a while Romelle will even accompany Lance on his ship, so that she might learn to be a sailor. One day, when Allura is Queen, Romelle will be the overseer of the military. 

It’s actually funny, because she might not look it but Romelle is a master strategist. She plans to learn every aspect of war before she takes over from her father, Prince Ronan. Which she will need to, since the peace talks with Daibazal are tense and on a thin line between war and peace. 

Emperor Zarkon is being very uncooperative. 

They enter the throne room and the chatter that had been there silences as the Princess enters. Lance falls back and stands tall, one arm behind his back formally while the other one is across his stomach in the same manner. The crowd bows and curtsies as Allura passes. She walks taller than even Lance, head held high and hands folded in front of her delicately. Her dress flows behind her making her seem like she’s floating instead of walking. Even her shoes don’t make a sound. 

When Allura comes upon the stairs to the raised dais, she curtsies so low she almost sits on the ground. She rises when she wants, not needing to wait for permission since she’s a princess. She glides up the stairs to seat herself to the right of her father. Prince Ronan sits to King Alfor’s left, his daughter Romelle to the left of him. 

Lance steps up to the steps and takes a knee with a bow, throwing his coat back to keep from kneeling on the hem. Hunk does the same, though far less elegant due to his massive size. Lance keeps his head bowed in respect until the King gives him permission to rise. 

"Greetings, Captain McClain. You and your First Mate may rise up.” Alfor commands gently. Lance rises with the grace of a lion. Hunk rises as gracefully as he can but he gets flustered easily when eyes are on him, so he’s clumsier than usual when he does. Poor guy. 

“It is a wonder you have returned so soon Captain, may I ask why?” The King asks, though Lance doesn’t actually have a choice in the matter. Lance fights to keep a scowl off his face. 

“Forgive me your Majesty. My ship was ambushed by the Dragon’s Fire, and was badly damaged. I only just recovered from the magic it took to keep us afloat myself.” Lance says with as straight a face as possible. Allura stares at him with barely contained shock, only visible through her eyes and only known by those who know her well. 

“I’m sorry to hear that Captain. Did they take anything of value?” The King inquires, but Lance knows what he really wants to know. He wants to know if the Olkarion cargo was taken. 

“No your Majesty, just some supplies. We had to come back to port to restock and prepare for another encounter should it come.” Lance says. King Alfor leans back in satisfaction. Prince Ronan is the one to speak up next. 

“Forgive me your Majesty, but may I ask something of the Captain?” Ronan inquires. Alfor waves his hand in permission. Prince Ronan stands up, a man as tall as Hunk but not so broad. His hair has grayed at the roots of his dirty blonde hair. His brown eyes sharp and piercing into Lance. 

“Captain McClain, might I ask why you were not prepared for an ambush by the Dragon’s Fire when you left us last?” The Prince asks. His question sends the court into a whispering mass. Lance fights his snarl at the accusation that Lance was weak. Which is exactly what the Prince has implied. 

He replies calmly if not sharply. 

“The Dragon’s Fire has not operated in Altean waters before, which we were still in when the ambush began. My crew and I were expecting to dock in the outlying islands for more supplies.” Lance begins. The Prince tries to say something else but Lance cuts him off before he can. “Captain Kogane is a pirate for the Empire, he only ever operates in Daibazal controlled waters, such as Daibazal, Balmera Islands, and the waters between Balmera and Olkarion. For him to venture so far into Altean territory is against even his Emperor’s wishes.”

“Thank you for clearing that up Captain.” King Alfor says, rubbing his fingers over his signet ring. Obviously seeing his chance to speak has been cut short, Prince Ronan takes his seat with a glare at Lance. He’s never liked Lance, made most obvious in this conversation. “What, pray tell, is your plan to rectify this Captain?”

Lance looks the King in the eyes. 

“If you allow it your Majesty, I believe we can capture the Pirate Captain Kogane, better known as the Dragon.” Lance says. There’s another wave of whispering through the court. King Alfor quiets them with a wave of his hand, and then Ronan stands out of turn. 

“You think you can best the Dragon? The same one who has not only beaten you once but three times? Unlikely.” Ronan says. King Alfor takes on an almost murderous look.

“Enough! Sit _down_ Prince Ronan.” King Alfor commands. Ronan sits with a scowl. “Now Captain, Ronan does have a point. What plan do you have to best the Dragon?" 

Lance smiles wickedly. "Oh my dear King, a good Pirate never reveals their secrets.” King Alfor chuckles lowly, inciting the court to follow his example. 

“So if a good pirate doesn’t reveal their secrets,” Ronan says, silencing the room as he speaks out of turn once again. “Then why bother catching the Dragon if he won’t talk?" 

A wave of whispers follow his words, but the King waves for Lance to speak. 

"Because. A good pirate also knows how to extract information from their target. And lucky for you I know my target very well.” Lance says with a small purr at the end. He does it on purpose to make the court think he and Kogane have spent a night together. Allura fights a smile because she knows the truth, but Lance has a reputation for being promiscuous. 

He has to keep them believing that if he wants to keep people from trying to set him and Allura up for marriage. It’s actually happened before. With the two of them being so close of friends, people like to expect that there’s more to it, which would then be ammo against her reign as Queen. 

“As you say then Captain,” King Alfor says. “I give you permission to hunt down and capture the Dragon. Just be sure it’s you who comes out victorious this time.” He warns. Lance bows low. 

“Of course your Majesty, and don’t worry, my plan will work.” Lance assures. 

“Dismissed then. Daughter, do escort Captain McClain from the castle.” Alfor says. Allura stands gracefully from her seat and glides down the steps. When she comes to Lance’s side she turns and curtsies low once more for a longer amount of time. 

“As you wish father.” Allura says, still curtsied, before standing gracefully and leading the way out of the throne room. They walk in silence until the door closes behind them, and Lance speeds up to match with Allura’s stride. 

“You don’t have a plan do you?” Allura asks. Lance smiles widely. 

“Not a bit.”


	4. The Four Kingdoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Nyma and Lance starts planning.

Lance goes to the tavern by the docks where his crew frequent the most. 

It's not very late in the day, sunlight still bright and warm on his skin. Lance pushes open the door, a blast of the smell of alcohol and sweat. Lance crinkles his nose against the smell but still smiles anyways. 

"Your Captain has arrived scalawags!" Lance yells as he steps into the room. The majority of the tavern's patrons turn and cheer. Raising their glasses in a toast of merriment. Lance walks forward, not needing to weave or squeeze between people since the patrons split like the sea before a tsunami. He gets claps on the back and a lot of hellos, especially from men and women looking for a good night with the infamous McClain. 

Lance raises his hand and a pint is slipped between his fingers without a word. Lance knocks it back hard, earning cheers and high fives when he finishes the pint in seconds. 

"Oi! Captain over here!" Rolo yells through the throng of people where the majority of the crew sits around a long table. Lance strides up and doesn't stop at the table. In a swift and graceful motion he hops onto the table. 

"Hey everybody!" Lance yells, spreading his arms out wide. Hunk squeezes into a chair at the table with a huff. "Who's ready to party!?" Lance demands. Another round of cheers flows through the crowd. 

Lance holds his hand out and another pint is shoved into his hand. Lance downs that one too, and smiles as he finally starts to feel a warmth at the pit of his stomach. He hops off the table and falls backwards into a chair. 

"So what's the agenda Captain?" One of the crew asks. 

"Well. After we complete what we originally set out for, we'll be hunting an old acquaintance of us all." Lance says. Confused looks are shared across the table. 

"Who would that be?" Rolo asks. Lance smiles wickedly. 

"Who wants revenge on the Dragon?" Lance asks. It's quiet, or at least as quiet as the rowdy tavern _can get,_ before a round of cheers explodes across the table. 

"When do we set out?" Someone else asks. 

"Three days time so party hard tonight boys. Tomorrow we prepare for war and the day after, we sail!" Lance yells. His crew stand up with a loud cheer, clanking their drinks together so hard that ale spills over the sides of most of them. Lance casually uses his foot to push away from the table so when the ale spills over the side it doesn't go down legs. 

"They sure are rowdy tonight McClain." A soothing voice sounds behind him. The person leans on the back of Lance's chair and her blonde hair spills down Lance's shoulder. Nyma, an old bed mate. Lance tilts his head to the side to look her in the eyes. 

"That they are. Are you here for small talk or fun?" Lance asks. Nyma laughs and leans back, her corset creaking quietly. 

"I'm here for fun, but not with you." Nyma teases, running her nail from Lance's chin to his cheek. Lance raises an eyebrow inquiringly. 

"And who are you here for doll?" Lance asks. Nyma's eyes slide from Lance to across the table where his drunkest crew mates sway drunkenly to the pub song they're singing off key. Lance's eyes lock on Rolo, who doesn't look quite as drunk but laughs and sings anyways. 

"Who's your blonde friend with the stubble over there?" Nyma asks. Lance smirks. 

"Rolo. Want me to introduce you?" Lance asks but he knows the answer already. 

"Oh Lance. You know I only let them come to me." She purrs. Her hand slips from his face as she saunters away, past the line of drunks with Rolo on the end. Nyma flashes her winning smile and that's that. Rolo's smile slips as his eyes track her across the room, and then he's slipping away from the group. 

Lance laughs at him. He totally fell under her spell. Rolo better keep an eye on his coin pouch with that one. Lance holds out his hand again, and another pint finds its way into his palm. His crew are so good to him. 

Lance waits until the night dies down, then slips out of the tavern. Hunk, of course, follows at his heels. As First Mate, Hunk takes his job of protecting Lance seriously, sometimes too seriously. 

"So Hunk." Lance says, aiming to start a casual conversation while they walk back to his ship. "When are you gonna bite the bullet and ask her out?" 

Hunk plays coy like he doesn't know who Lance is talking about. 

"Ask who out?" Hunk says, still shuffling his steps to keep pace with Lance. He rolls his eyes skyward. 

"Shay you idiot. I know you like her, she likes you, you two are practically courting. So why not make it official?" Lance suggests, nudging him in the side. Hunk swats away his arm with a huff as they round a corner to head to the docks. 

"I want to take things slow okay? Besides, she deserves someone who isn't away all the time." Hunk says, a sorrowful note to his voice. Lance sighs. 

"You don't have to sail with me you know. I know you miss land when we're at sea." Lance says softly, gently. Hunk sighs and waves his hand at the ground. A few small rocks float into the air and he plays with them, spinning them around his fingers like Lance threads a coin through his when bored. 

"I wouldn't even be alive without you man. And I'm happy to sail. I love the ocean too." Hunk says. He still sounds sad. 

"Hunk you don't owe me anything. You're my best friend. I just want what's best for you. And besides. You can still sail when you crave the ocean, you know you will always be welcome on my ship." Lance offers. Hunk shakes his head at him. This is a constant conversation between the two of them lately. Ever since Hunk started liking Shay Lance has tried to push him to find the love that could bloom if only he tried. But Hunk is stubborn, and loyal, and refuses to leave Lance's side. 

"Maybe one day." Hunk says, and that's that. They reach the docks within minutes of the conversation ending, and Lance and Hunk climb onto his ship. They split up, Hunk going to his cabin to rest, while Lance heads to the war room. 

He lays out a map of the nearby kingdoms, and makes another mark in ink on the paper. Every x on the map are places Kogane has crossed paths with Lance, every circle are places he's been spotted. He frequents the border between Daibazal and Balmera, a border that is frequently tested by Daibazalee soldiers. 

Balmera has been a constant target of Daibazal. 

They are the main producers of a mineral called quintessence, the crystals that produce their own light. Emperor Zarkon relies heavily on these crystals but trade has been scarce between the two kingdoms ever since talk of war has begun. Altea are allies with both Olkarion and Balmera, though Olkarion has already declared themselves a neutral kingdom should war break out. 

It actually makes sense to be honest. 

Olkarion is a kingdom of scholars and healers. Their military might is weak, but attacking them would be fatal even for large countries such as Altea and Daibazal. The Olkari may be weak in military might, but their people are exceptionally powerful witches and warlocks. To attack them is to force them into drastic measures. 

Meaning their magic users would force natural disasters to occur unnaturally. 

It's rumored there is one witch, a healer, with such powerful Earth magic that she could cause earthquakes in Altea without even leaving her home. And since Altea is on a fault line, that could mean the destruction of mass proportions. Of course, there is no evidence that Lance knows of to make these rumors true.

Lance leans back in his chair, a hand raised to play with the water in the air. His magic is weak right now, due to the amount of magic saving his ship took, but he will be ready for battle again in a few days. He just needs to rest some more. For now however, even drawing water from the air is difficult. He soon stops using his magic when a wave of fatigue makes his limbs heavy. 

Lance ponders on what he would do should war break out. 

His agreement with the king is only so far as Lance going on missions outside of Altea borders that the King's men can't make without heavy negotiations between kingdoms. To get involved in the war is to pick a side. 

If he chooses Altea, which would be the most likely of choices for him, then his ventures even to Balmera territory would be dangerous. To pick Daibazal would be to betray Allura and he would never do such a thing. To be neutral like Olkarion is to sever ties with Altea altogether. At least until the war ends. 

None of these options are ideal.

Altea is his home country though, where he became a man, where his family lives. So if the choice had to be made he would choose Altea. Lance eyes the map of the countries with narrowed eyes. Altea and Daibazal are both situated on the mainland, a thick line of mountains separating the two countries. Those mountains are treacherous to cross, even for the people who do so regularly. 

Off the coasts of both countries are two large string of islands. 

The string off of Daibazal is Balmera, and the string off of Altea is Olkarion. Separating the two islands is what is known as Death Valley. Sailing down this straight is a death wish because of all the whirlpools. Getting caught in one of those is no fun, Lance would know personally. They barely made it out of that alive let alone intact. 

Across the sea is a lot of other countries, most of them at peace with each other. But the trip is so long and backbreaking that setting up trade is near impossible. Even communication between them and the four countries on this side of the map is difficult. 

The crystals Balmera is particularly endowed with, when infused with every magic known to exist, even Light and Dark magic, provides the ability to communicate between crystals. However, there aren't as many Light or Dark magic users around anymore, so those kinds of crystals are scarce to come by. They fetch a heavy price on the black market just to pay someone to get one, not even including the crystal itself. 

Lance sighs and rubs at his eyes. Figuring out a plan of capture that would fool the Dragon will be hard to come up with. He'll be stuck in this room for the next few days at the minimum. Hopefully while he's here Allura calls on him for something so he has no choice but to adhere to her summons. 

This'll be a long night.


	5. The Dragon's Roar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets a new mission from the Emperor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I was going to post this like three days ago but I'm sick so it took a little longer for me to edit. Hope you guys enjoy and thanks for sticking around!

Keith frowns as his thoughts drift back to McClain. 

All week he's been distracted, worrying about someone he's not even close to personally. The thoughts keep him awake at night, make his training ineffective at working his muscles, they even make eating hard to accomplish in a timely manner. Keith scowls so hard his eyebrows twitch. 

He didn't _mean_ to set his ship on fire. 

Robbing McClain was the only goal, no death, no damage, just thievery. And it's not like he has a grudge against McClain either. He just happens to be in the right place at the wrong time. A lot. 

That magical display was impressive though to say the least. 

Keith himself has never seen a display of power of such magnitude, and it's not even from anger. Just a desire to save his ship. All it was was an ice dome, but it was a big one. Spanning all the way from port to starboard, from top deck to keep, from bow to aft. McClain held such a massive, thick dome for far longer than necessary, almost killing himself from the effort. 

Keith can remember the feeling of dread in his gut when McClain's face twisted in agony as his magic cracked. The power was so great even his eyes and hands were glowing blue from the magic. The fear he felt when McClain collapsed, his magic extended so much he needed a physical line from his hands frozen to the deck, to the dome he had created. 

And that awful shattering as Keith walked away. 

He had feared the worst, that McClain had died from over extending his magic. Keith had been half way across the plank to his ship when it happened and he had almost raced back to the Serpent Lion. The only thing keeping him from doing so was the small smile across McClain's face. 

He sees why he deserves his moniker as the Serpent. 

The Dragon and the Serpent, forever intertwined in a fight for power. Sky and sea. Fire and water. Captain versus Captain. Pirate versus Pirate. Keith wonders who will take power in the end or if the two of them are destined to circle around each other like Yin and Yang. 

"Captain. We have docked." His First Mate, Krolia, also known as his own mother, says, interrupting his inner thoughts while he pummels a punching bag with his fists. The whole mother-son topic is a sore spot for Keith for reasons he doesn't want to, and sometimes can't explain. 

"Thank you, I will be down soon so that we may convene with the Emperor." Keith says formally, not wanting to dive into the mess that is his parental relationship. Why she even bothered to board his ship in the first place is beyond him. 

"Of course, I'll prepare you a bath." She says. As she walks away the purple tips of her black hair fly up off her shoulder. Keith watches after her for a moment, his shirt half way over his arms. He shakes himself of the emotions in his chest. When facing the Emperor, it is best to be as solid in oneself as possible. The court has this way of ripping confidence to shreds. 

He hates dealing with the court. 

Keith does bathe, though he does so quickly and without washing his hair. He dons his finest of coats, the deepest of blood reds with black trim and no wrinkles. He smooths his hair back with a comb, though he really shouldn't bother. The strong winds of Daibazalee winters will surely mess his hair up all over again. Just another reason for that chilling look of disdain he gets from the Prince. 

Keith files off his ship with his First Mate and his strongest warrior to carry in the trophies of the last trips haul. The only reason he steals is because the Emperor gives him no choice. All of the loot goes to the Emperor himself. 

The winds outside are harsh and cold. 

Keith is lucky, with his powerful fire magic, he knows how to keep his body temperature at an even rate when in cold. Doesn't work quite as well for the heat though. Keith marches down the straight line from the dock Keith uses to the side of the castle, a hand locked tight on the hilt of his sword. Fire magic tests at his fingertips as he gets closer to the castle walls. 

As doors are shut behind him the howling of the wind is replaced by the harsh whispers of court. Keith doesn't miss a step, face even and emotionless. Krolia follows behind him, exactly one step behind and one step right. His strongest of men, who carries the chest full of gold and valuables, walks exactly three steps behind Keith. 

They march in time as if to the beat of a drum, uniform, synced.

Keith marches to the raised dais, then sinks to his knees in a timely manner. Krolia follows suit, while his crew member steps forward, presents the loot, and then falls back to behind Keith in a kneel. Keith tightens his grip on his sword in hopes that this would be satisfaction enough. 

So maybe Keith will get to see _him,_ if only for a moment. 

"Is this all of it pirate?" Zarkon sneers, saying pirate like a slur. Keith fights the scowl he so desperately wants to show. Have to be good though or he won't get to see Shiro, his brother at heart. 

"Yes your Majesty." Keith says evenly. He doesn't dare look up without permission, or speak out of turn. There's a line of laughter and jeers in the rest of the court but Keith tunes them out. He just needs to see Shiro. Just for a moment. 

He just has to be good, for Shiro's sake. 

"Well, that's disappointing. I expected more from you _pirate._ How do you expect to rectify this mistake?" Zarkon asks with a drawl of indifference, an underlying tone of cruelty. 

Keith knows better than to answer that.

"I say give him a day in the arena." Prince Lotor says with a smile even in his tone. A shiver of fear and dread reach the pit of his stomach. God Keith hates this place. 

"Hm, no he has Shirogane for that." Zarkon drawls once again. He starts tapping his clawed nails on the chair he sits in and every tap sends a rush of terror through Keith's veins. 

Terror and hate. 

"What has become of your better, McClain was it?" Zarkon asks rhetorically. Keith swallows thickly as the enemy pirate's name is brought into conversation. 

"I don't understand the question your Majesty." Keith says to buy himself time to figure out what's going to happen. There's more jeers and laughter.

"I have heard rumors, so I know that you and McClain are fairly _close."_ Zarkon says, but Keith just loses the conversation completely. _Close?_ Keith just robbed and nearly got him killed, how is that _close?_ "Say, I think I would like to meet this McClain. Fetch him for me and I'll let you see the Champion." Zarkon offers, or commands. 

Bring McClain _here?_ The lion's den _itself?_

"Of course if you don't do as I say the Champion will be forced to work off his debt on his own." Zarkon says. Keith’s breath sucks in harshly. 

"I'll do as you wish your Majesty." Keith says. He sits in tension as he waits for Zarkon to dismiss him or ask something else or anything. Anything but the silence. 

"Very well. Dismissed." Zarkon says and Keith stands to attention almost faster than he should. Krolia is the next to stand with the crew member standing last as Keith and Krolia pass, falling into step. They march out of the throne room and back to the ship. Keith doesn't release his grip on his sword until the sails are loosed and they are on the water. 

As a fire mage, water isn't his calling. He doesn't crave the ocean like a water mage does. He craves the deserts of southern Altea. He craves the blazing sun and warm air, not this cold wind that often brings slush across the top deck when too close to land. 

But Keith craves the sea in a way no one else ever has. 

He craves the dangers in the depths. He craves the separation from civilization. The release of tension. The freedom of the open waters. Keith doesn't let go of his sword hilt until that is all that's left in view, water. 

Keith’s breaths rush into his chest all at once, and he's hyperventilating. He's panting. His magic licking up his arms with fire. He holds it in for as long as he can. Until his chest is on fire and his breaths come out in steam. Until the tips of his hair catch on fire. Until flames even seep out from the sides of his eyes. He lets this happen without ever looking from the direction of the kingdom he so despises. 

Keith feels the ship rock with the collective steps away from him right when he 'blows his top', as Shiro used to call it. Keith draws back in his magic like stuffing a pile of clothes into a drawer they refuse to fit inside. Then he holds it in his chest, lets his lungs singe, his breath steam. 

Keith steps up onto the railing and then races across the bowsprit at the bow of the ship, only practice keeping him on the thinning piece of wood. He reaches all the way to the end before his magic bursts free and he screams it all away. 

There are many reasons Keith is nicknamed The Dragon. 

Fire breath is the number one on that list. 

Keith lets out a burst of fire magic so powerful it sends the clouds evaporating. It rises from his chest, and out his mouth. Like a true Dragon, Keith breathes out the fire in his veins until his blood stops simmering. 

When the magic fades, Keith catches his breath and pivots on the thin wood. He rushes back to his place at his mother's side as her Captain. She looks at him with sorrowful violet eyes that match his own. Keith ignores it. 

"Set course for Altea. We have a Serpent to capture." Keith commands his mother. 

"Yes," Krolia pauses shortly. "Captain." Keith watches as she stalks to the wheel, sending the ship into a ninety degree right, the abrasive movement tipping the ship sideways. Keith doesn't give it any more thought, other than that he'll deal with his mother and her sudden urge to be a mother later. 

_After_ Keith breaks his brother out of the Arena.

He stalks to his quarters, locking the door behind him and swiping the cloth off of his war desk. Underneath lies a map only Keith has laid eyes on, a map dedicated to the whereabouts and routines of the Serpent himself. He had planned on one day hiring him and his crew as backup for the prison break, but it seems that day may never come. 

"I'm coming for you McClain. And this time my cargo is you." Keith swears under his breath, and in the silence of his room, his tone is sorrowful.


	6. Stowaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entering Pidge.

Lance slept in today, still drained from his huge magic display a week ago. It will take him another week to restore his magic energy, the only replenishing tactic being sleep. He's fine until he tries to use his magic. Even the small things drains him. 

He gets woken up by a ruckus and a bunch of yelling. 

Someone pounds on his door, and Lance yanks it open as he slips on his coat. They're returning from Balmera and Balmera, like Daibazal, is in their winter months. Lance has to look up a little to look Hunk in the eyes. He looks frazzled and a little panicked. 

Lance doesn't take it too seriously, Hunk is always panicked about something or other. That or worried. Lance yawns as he buttons up his coat leisurely. Hunk waits patiently, bouncing on his feet. 

"Okay what is it?" Lance says after he smooths his hair down. Hunk doesn't respond verbally at first, just grabs Lance's wrist to drag him to the top deck. At the stairs he turns around with a wide eyed look. 

Okay now he's a little concerned. 

"We have a stowaway." Hunk says. Lance blinks and then slips on a terrifying demeanor. He doesn't like stowaways. He prefers to know exactly who is on his ship. He has too many enemies to be so careless. 

Lance stalks past Hunk, still strapping on his sword belt. The moment it's hooked he draws his sword, and the sound of the metallic _shing_ makes his crew part from the crowd they have formed. He walks forward slowly, letting his crew part at their own pace. When the last man splits from his view Lance is greeted with Cook, who holds a child by both arms in front of him. 

The person is androgynous, so Lance can't define their gender quite yet. 

Short, with choppy, spiky strawberry blonde hair. Their eyes are amber stones behind a pair of too big glasses, crooked and slipping down their nose. They snarl and fight like an animal until Lance comes to a halt in front of them. 

"Caught this one stealing food and I caught the sneaky little brat before they could get away." Cook scowls. "Not like there is anywhere they can go when out in the middle of the ocean."

Lance silences Cook with a hand and raises their chin with the point of his sword. 

They pant from exertion, their breaths fogging the metal of his sword as they seethe at him. Those amber eyes stare at him defiantly, no hint of fear in their expression. However, their eyes give them away, darting left and right like a caged animal looking for escape. His crew are silent now, waiting for Lance to do something. 

"Who," Lance starts, drawing out the word a little and pausing. "Are you?"

They don't answer him. All they do is hock a loogie onto his sword. Lance fights not to show his disgust. 

"How did you get onto my ship?" Lance asks, trying to at least get the kid to speak. Their based teeth become hidden as they seal their lips tight to each other. They breathe heavily but never look away from Lance in submission. 

_Feisty._

"Look kid, answer or I'm sending you overboard." Lance says. They snarl at him again. At least this time they actually speak though. 

"I'm not a kid!" They snap. Lance rolls his eyes very dramatically. 

"Look boy-" 

"I'm a girl." They say. "Right now anyways." 

Lance looks at her with raised eyebrows, not understanding in the least bit. They calm down to say in a civil tone, "I'm gender fluid." Lance nods in understanding. 

"Right, little girl-" Lance starts but she cuts him off with another animal-like snarl. 

"I have a name jackass!" She shouts. 

"Oh do tell." Lance retorts in slight annoyance at the many interruptions, waving at her to speak. She hesitates. 

"Pidge. My name is Pidge." She, Pidge, says. Lance highly doubts that's her actual name but he relents. He never forced Cook to tell Lance his name, he won't force her either, stowaway or not. 

"Fine. _Pidge._ Why and how are you on my ship? And how long have you been aboard? Do you even know what ship you stowed away on?" Lance spews one after the other, so as to avoid being interrupted _again_ by this little brat. Pidge leans back so her back is straight, despite the obvious strain it takes on her shoulders. 

"Remove the sword and the one holding my arms and I'll tell you." Pidge says, chin raised in confidence despite the sword resting at her throat. Lance eyes her for a moment for stepping back and sheathing his sword. Cook goes to release her but he holds his hand up to stop him. Lance smiles. 

"I don't take orders from anyone, I barely do so from the Altean King. I won't do it for a little girl." Lance says. Her face creases in outrage. "However. I am a pirate after all. And you know what pirates love to do?" Lance asks. 

She looks at him uncertain as he crouches down to her level, sitting on his heels and leaning on his knees. Pidge swallows as she leans her head back when Lance gets too close. Lance leans with her, until she can't lean back any further. He puts his lips to her ear. 

"We like to cheat death." Lance whispers. Then he leans back and stands in one motion. 

"Who wants to have some fun with our little stow away!?" Lance yells to his crew with a smile. They cheer in agreement. They know what Lance is doing, because every single one of them have been put through the trial. "Let's play a little game!" 

Pidge looks terrified when he turns back to her, a wicked smile crossing his face. 

"If you-" Pidge starts, breaths shaky. "If you lay a hand on me I'll rip you to pieces." Her threat is weak from the fear in her voice. Lance almost frowns. He doesn't. 

"Oh little girl. This will be far more fun than what is going on in that pretty little head of yours." Lance says. Pidge actually whimpers. Lance may not know her well, but he's guessing she doesn't make that sound often. 

Lance draws his sword out again, and nods at Cook. 

Cook throws her down, being maybe a little rougher than need be but it's whatever. Lance grabs her by the arm, holding tight as she tries to yank herself away. Lance doesn’t allow her to get away and drags her to the main mast. He throws her down in front of it, being just a little bit gentler than Cook was. This time she manages to catch herself before she hits the ground, and she stands tall, despite backing away from Lance and his crew. She backs right into the mast and Lance can see her fall back into her fear. 

Lance raises his sword, standing just close enough that the point of it sinks into the small valley of her chest. 

“Climb.” Lance demands. Pidge stares at him with a blank look. “Go on.”

Pidge cranes her neck to look behind her, never facing fully away from Lance, as if she thinks he will stab her in the back. Pidge looks back at him green in the face.

“You want me to,” She pauses to swallow. “Climb _up?”_ Lance nods seriously.

“Do it, or I throw you into the brig and sell you as a slave at the nearest black market.” Lance says. That’s a lie, but he keeps as straight a look on his face as he does, so she believes him. Pidge whimpers, but turns her back to him slowly. She wraps her arms around the mast, her arms are not long enough to fully encircle it, though it is fairly thick. Even Lance can’t wrap his arms all the way around. She tries to hug it with her legs, and fails, falling onto her ass. The crew laughs behind him, and Lance sets the blunt edge of his blade against his shoulder. 

“Well this’ll take a while.” Lance sighs, and she turns her head to glare at him. 

“Listen little girl, here’s the deal.” Lance starts, trying to give her an incentive to really _try._ “Your task is to get to the top of the main mast, using no magic or weapons, then walk out over the water on the gaff of the mainsail-the big one. Once you reach the end of the gaff-the wooden beam on the top of the really big sail- I’ll meet you up there to give you more instructions.” Lance explains. Pidge turns around to look at him face to face, her own still green beneath the skin. 

“Fail to adhere to these instructions, you will be sold as a slave. Complete the tasks ahead of you, and I’ll give you a choice.”

“What kind of choice?” Pidge asks hesitantly. Lance smirks. 

“Complete the tasks and you’ll find out.” Lance replies. Something changes in Pidge’s expression. 

“So you’re saying, that all I need to do is get to the gaff, at the top right?” Pidge asks. Lance nods. He wonders if she’s already figured it out or not. Or perhaps she’ll come up with a new tactic. Who knows. 

“That is correct, and you will have all the time that you need to do so.” Lance says. “Though I suggest you start climbing because my patience _will_ wear thin, and you shouldn’t see me when I’ve run out of patience.” 

Pidge turns away from him, backing up to look skyward. Then she crumbles in on herself. 

“I’m gonna be sick.” She mumbles. Lance snaps his fingers and a bucket slides from the gathered crowd across the floor, and directly in front of Pidge. She throws up, because they all do, and then pushes the bucket away from her. She stands with a new determination in her eyes.

“I wouldn’t go anywhere Pirate, this will be over quickly.” Pidge claims. Lance smiles and walks over to the fore mast a few feet away. He hops up onto the crates stacked against the opposite mast and props his feet up. His sword lays across his lap.

“Do prove yourself right then.” Lance responds, and then the game begins. His crew disperse a little, the morning shift for ship propulsion going back to work. Hunk takes the wheel, and those who aren’t working kick back around Lance to watch the show. 

Pidge takes a running leap at the mast, launching upwards. Her body slams hard into the wood, and even his most stoic of men cringe at the noise she makes from deep in her throat. She slides back down to the bottom and lays in a heap. She repeats this tactic three more times, before she calls it quits for a break. 

“Done already?” Lance taunts. “Should I change course for a black marketplace? How about Uniliu Island? That's not very far after all, maybe a day's travel. Gives you time to pray to whatever god you follow that you aren't sold as a sex slave.”

For a moment she looks terrified, then she takes a deep breath and when she opens her eyes again Pidge glares at him and stands back up. This time she takes a new approach to the mast, gathering nearby boxes and crates to stack as high as she possibly can. It works, a little, and when she climbs up the stack she’s a good fifteen-ish feet off the ground. She tries what she did in the very beginning, and again it works briefly, until she slips up two feet above the pile. It sends her crashing down into the pile she made with a scream. 

Lance winces when she breaks through the boxes and crates for ten feet before she stops. 

She scrambles slowly out of the mess, dropping that last five feet onto the ground. Lance can’t help it when he taunts her some more. Something about her makes him want to tease her like he does his younger niece and nephew. 

“Ouch! Better luck next time!” Lance yells. His answer is a slew of curses as she yanks pieces of wood out of her hair.

She crosses her arms to look at the mast, and then tilts her head. Pidge steps forward, running a hand along a line of ropes. Lance leans forward to see if she figured it out. Pidge tugs on each rope as if to test it, head thrown back to look at what she’s doing. Lance eases off the crates, catching the attention of the chatting crew who have no duties to attend to as of the moment. They stand too, which catches the attention of everyone else. Bit by bit every single one of his crew stops what they’re doing to watch what happens. 

Pidge looks behind her, and then narrows her eyes as she yanks on one of the looser ropes. The rope slackens a little, and then straightens out again. Pidge purses her lips and then yanks hard on the rope. She’s holding on tightly, so when the rope goes flying through the air, so does she, the other end of the rope crashing down to the deck. 

Pidge screams as she’s lifted into the air, but it’s covered up by the cheers of his crew. 

“Stage one complete boys! Let’s see how she fares at stage two!” Lance yells, and then bounds to the ropes, using his sword to cut one loose. The other end comes crashing down as well on this rope, both of them holding weighted bags on the other end. Lance is propelled into the air, his laughter taken away by the wind. He flies into the air until he reaches the arc of the rope, and he slows down mid air when he starts to free fall downwards. He doesn’t make it far as his feet plant on the wood of the gaff. Pidge is already up here, clinging to the gaff like a monkey, arms wrapped so tight around the gaff it looks painful. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and her face is green. 

“Well kid, very impressive display back there. One of the fastest to figure out the first trial.” Lance says, walking along the gaff without even a wobble, despite the gaff being just thin enough that it requires extreme balance to walk along. He crouches down in front of her, looking below to see his crew already halfway up the rope net. Some of them stayed below to keep the ship from floating into a rock or anything of that nature, but most of them climb the rope netting at top speeds.

“So, ready for trial two, or should I tell my first mate to make course for Unilu Island?” Lance asks. Unilu island is an island made up primarily of thieves and murderers and slavers, pretty much all of the outcasts and criminals of the four kingdoms. Slaves are very popular to trade there, Lance could make decent coin there if he actually liked doing it. But desperate times sometimes call for desperate measures in some people's minds. Downsides of being a pirate it seems. Everyone seems to believe every pirate is a scoundrel and a murderer. It's the biggest problem he has with his title as a pirate captain, because since he's a captain he seems to be viewed worse than most other pirates. On the bright side, the fear factor of his reputation gives him an advantage in many aspects of the trade.

“You’re,” Pidge gasps. “Insane.” Lance laughs, standing up and pointing his sword at her with a smile.

“I’ve been called worse kid, now get up and start walking.” Lance threatens. Pidge just clings on tighter.

“I can’t!” She cries out, actual tears forming in her eyes. “I’m scared of heights you asshole!”

Lance cocks an eyebrow at her. “You’re point? We all have to face our fears someday kid. It’s just your bad luck you chose this ship, because it seems you’ll be facing yours far sooner than you had hoped.” 

Pidge growls weakly at him, opening her eyes for a brief moment. Her mistake is looking down. She screams shortly and buries her green face into her clinging arms. She whimpers again, and Lance almost feels bad for her. 

“Get up of your own volition or I’ll make you do so myself.” Lance threatens. Pidge weakly unlatches her arms from the pole, screams, and re-grasps the gaff. Lance waits patiently for her to get up, sword still pointed at the ready. “I suggest looking up.” 

“Not helping!” Pidge yells. She takes a deep breath, opens her eyes and looks up. Limb by limb she unlatches herself from around the gaff, and by the time she stands up, holding onto Lance despite the sword, the crew members who climbed up to watch what happens next arrive. 

“Good, now, walk.” Lance urges her. Pidge whines low in her throat, holding his arm tighter. Lance sighs and cuts her a little slack. “You can hold onto me if that makes you feel any better?” 

Pidge nods shyly, her grasp on his arm so tight her head rubs against his biceps. Pidge takes a step, blindly, and breathes out a shaky breath. She eases along the gaff, Lance not helping her at all, but being there to ground her. She makes it to the end of the gaff, and gives a short scream when she goes to take another step but nothing is there.

“Ready for your next task kid?” Lance asks, sliding his arm from her hold gently and backing away. Pidge opens her eyes, squeaks when she glances down, and kneels so she can hold onto the gaff.

“What are you planning to make me do?” Pidge asks, fear and wariness in her tone and expression. Lance shrugs with a smile. 

“Simple, jump.” Lance says.

Pidge looks at him with alarm. “You want me to _what!?”_ She squeals. Lance hardens his expression. 

“Either you jump, or I forgo making quick money and just slit your throat here and now. Perhaps the red of your blood will look good on my sails.” Lance threatens, and then adds on when Pidge doesn’t do or say anything. “At least if you jump you have a chance of surviving. Though I suggest to aim for the water, hitting the deck from this height would be a mess I don’t want to deal with.”

Pidge swallows thickly and looks behind her and down towards the water. She turns green in the face again and wobbles where she kneels, as if she got dizzy. 

“So, if I jump, and I survive, then what?” Pidge asks. 

“Then you can swim back to the ship and stay unharmed until we reach Altea.” Lance offers. Pidge chews her lip in contemplation. 

“I can do this,” Pidge mutters under her breath, the wind picking up her words and carrying it to Lance. “Don't think, just jump. Don't think, I can do this, just don't think.” Pidge stands up slowly, turns even slower to face the water, and then steps up right to the edge. 

Then she takes a step forward and drops. 

Lance and his crew let out screaming cheers to match with Pidge’s high pitched screams of fear. Lance knows he’ll regret this, but he uses his magic to surge the ocean water upwards, engulfing Pidge and easing her decent, then spilling her gently on to the top deck. Pidge hacks and coughs as the water releases her, and Lance feels a brief wave of dizziness. He leans on his sword, the point of it dug into the gaff and holding him up. He makes sure to make it look like he’s just leaning down to look at Pidge so his crew won’t worry too much. 

“Right then!” Lance calls out as the dizziness leaves him. He turns to his closest crew member and holds out his hand in expectation. He hands Lance the rope he’ll use to get down from the gaff, and Lance wraps it a few times around his wrist and forearm. Lance then takes a running leap off the end of the gaff and jumps with a holler of joy. He goes out a few feet before the rope goes taut and swings Lance downwards towards the ship. The wind howls in his ears and beats against his face as he soars, adrenaline pumping like a drug in his veins. 

Lance gets close to the railing and uses his anchored arm to pull himself up a little so he doesn’t crash into the railing. 

He learned that the hard way.

Lance comes dead center of the deck when he finally puts his feet down and lets go with a running end. Lance keeps up the light jog until he’s standing in front of Pidge, who still cowers, sopping wet and shivering, on the ground. Lance sheaths his sword, and then bends down to grab Pidge by the arm and pull her up. 

Her protest is weak. 

Lance claps her on the shoulder and gives her his most disarming smile. “Welcome to the crew Pidge!” 

Pidge looks at him like he’s insane. “Wait what?” 

“You heard me, welcome to the crew of the Serpent Lion!” Lance repeats and this time he’s followed by jovial cheers from the crowd behind him. Pidge looks at him blankly, then her face morphs into anger. 

“Wait if you were going to let me join the crew then why did you make me do that!?” Pidge yells. Lance laughs and backs away.

“Everyone who joins my crew has to undergo the three trials.” Lance explains. Everyone on the crew nods and mutters in agreement. One of them pipes up from the crowd.

“You got lucky kiddo! He forced me to wrestle a shark!” There’s laughter, and then more people shouting out their own trials. Lance blushes and scowls at his crew who ignore him. 

“I had to break into the castle and meet him by the throne!” Someone else chimes in, and there’s more laughter and snickering.

“Oh please, you had it easy! I had to be buried alive!” One more yells and then Lance decides to put an end to all the jeers at his expense. 

“Alright alright! Knock it off! The lot of you!” Lance yells, the laughter increases, and Cook steps forward, throwing his arm on top of Lance’s head and leaning on him. Lance tries to shake him off and fails. 

“What we’re trying to tell you kid, is that everyone here has to face their fears, and the Captain has an uncanny ability of just _knowing_ what it is you fear the most.” Cook says. “He never put any of us into any _real_ danger. He always made sure that whether or not we passed our trials we were safe until the very end.”

“Okay, but why even bother with the trials?” Pidge asks. Lance shoves Cook off of him at last with a huff. Cook laughs and backs away back into the crowd. 

“The trials are to determine if you’re fit to join my crew. They all tell me what kind of person you are. You went through three and you passed all of them, mostly.” Lance says. Pidge creases her lips into a frown.

“Then what were mine, and what do you mean I only _mostly_ passed?” Pidge asks, sounding slightly offended.

“Well, your first trial was-” Lance starts but is cut off.

“Wait a minute, how come you’re telling _her_ what her trials were about?” Someone complains from the crowd and gets mutters and shouts of agreement. Lance turns to them with a raised eyebrow. 

“You didn’t ask.” Lance says. 

The crowd’s murmuring silences for a moment before someone says, “He’s not wrong.”

“Look if you want to know, you can ask me later, but for now get back to work you bunch of miscreants!” Lance snaps at his crew. None of them take him too seriously and just disperse in groups, telling each other stories of Lance’s trials. _Assholes._

Lance huffs and turns back to Pidge, who looks at him with an odd look on her face. She makes her face go blank when she realizes he’s looking at her, but not fast enough for Lance to not see it. He just doesn’t know what that face actually meant. 

“Anyways, walk with me and I’ll explain Pidge.” Lance says, turning away to give her a small tour of the ship. She’s probably already seen it all since she _did_ stowaway. “So your first trial was to determine your intelligence and problem solving skills. See if you could figure out how to reach the top of the mast with as little effort as possible.”

Pidge nods. He keeps explaining.

“Your second test was crossing the gaff. You sort of passed that one, since you _did_ hold onto me, but since I made no move to help you across I’ll count it as a win for you.” Lance says. “That was to test balance, of both the heart and the mind. Lean too much one way physically you’ll fall, lean too much one way mentally you’ll falter.” 

“What do you mean?” Pidge asks.

“I mean you can’t be all goodness, because then you won’t be able to make the hard choices that may be forced upon you. But in the same moment, you can’t be all evil, because then you won’t know when to have mercy.” Lance explains, waving his hand as he speaks. “That is to say, no one can be perfectly balanced at all times, everyone wobbles every now and then. But it’s for my own safety that I make sure my crew are up to the tasks I lay before them. I test this because I need people who are willing to die to protect me, or each other, even though I would never put them in that sort of position on purpose.”

“Okay then what’s the last one? I’m assuming it had to do with the jump?” Pidge asks. Lance smiles at her.

“Indeed it did, and you passed the test with flying colors.” Lance says, hopping up the stairs to the quarter deck where Hunk stands at the wheel. He glances over at Lance and smiles at him, nodding at Pidge with respect.

“Pidge, this here is my First Mate, Hunk. When I’m unavailable, or if it is a matter that is small and not life threatening, then Hunk will be the one to go to with any and all issues you may have with each other or with the ship.” Lance says, clapping a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk scoffs at him. 

“What he really means is to never bother him because he’s lazy, _unless_ the matter is life threatening.” Hunk says, elbowing Lance in the side gently enough to not leave a bruise. Lance hisses at him like a cat anyways.

“Hey! I’m your captain!” Lance whines. Hunk snorts a laugh.

“Captain of being a pain in my ass? Sure.” Hunk fires back.

“You are so mean to me!” Lance complains. Pidge breaks them from their bantering with a giggle, which she immediately hides it behind a cough. Hunk and Lance share a look. This one is a keeper for sure.

“So you didn’t tell me what the last test was about.” Pidge changes the subject. 

“Survival.” Lance says. “You had a choice, jump at a height you’re unimaginably nauseous from and _maybe_ have a chance of survival, or take a quick and painless death. You had the courage to put your life in the hands of fate, to trust that it was _not_ your time to die. And you?” Lance pauses to step forward and take her by the shoulders. 

“You did not take a leap of faith, or even a jump. You closed your eyes and you walked hand in hand with Fate, and Death, and both of them caught you before I ever did.” Lance says. “That was the bravest thing you could have shown me, and if you would be willing, I would be honored to have you on the crew.”

“I-” Pidge stutters. “I don’t understand. How could you see me as brave, when all I did was cry and whine?” 

Lance guides her with an arm across her shoulder, across the deck and to the bow of the ship, to the very furthest point forward before having to climb. Beyond the ship’s railing and bowsprit, lay a vast and blue ocean as far as the eye can see in every direction. Water line meets the skyline and they blur and blend in an endless blue. 

“I can say with absolute certainty that you are the bravest person that I know.” Lance says. 

“But how?” Pidge demands. 

“Do you see the line in the distance? Where the water meets the sky?” Lance asks, and Pidge looks out with a glance and a nod before looking back at him. “Imagine if that line represents a person’s future. Some, like myself, chase that line, chase the future no matter where it takes us. We can’t see beyond the line, only it and what lies before it. But you? By stowing away, and by hiding on my ship undetected for at least two weeks, and by undergoing terrifying trials just to stay alive, you have demonstrated to me that you are nothing like me. Like everyone else who sees the line.”

“How so?” Pidge asks, looking at him both with wonder and like he is something that is a stepping stool for her next place in life. There is a fiery determination, a goal, hidden in those amber depths.

“Because you don’t see just the line. You see beyond, and you see multiple beyonds. I see it in the way you’re looking at me right now.” Lance says, peeking at her from the side of his eye. She looks like she’s been slapped in the face.

“What way?”

“Like there is something you are working towards, a goal, a future, a new beginning. Hell it could be world domination for all I know, but I see it. And I have all the faith in the world that you will see it materialized before your very eyes.” Lance says. “I just hope that, should you stay, I would have the honor of pushing you closer to that goal.”

"You would willingly help me if it was world domination? Do you not have any morals?" Pidge asks in amusement. Lance shrugs at her.

"To be a pirate is to be morally confused isn't it? And if world domination is truly your path, then who's to say it won't be a good thing? There's a lot of evil in the world, who's to say by you becoming the ultimate conqueror that you wouldn't _technically_ abolish those evils?" 

"You are a very strange person Captain." Pidge finally replies, after a brief moment of silence. Lance laughs and ruffles her wild strawberry blonde hair. 

"I've been called worse kid." Lance smiles as she irritably smacks his hands away from her hair and smooths it down, doing nothing to tame the short frizzy locks. It's kind of adorable the way she pouts at him. He has to wonder just how old this kid is. She's about the height of a twelve year old, and she acts kind of like a teenager with her perpetual irritability, but her eyes speak of wisdom and power of someone much older.

“So,” Lance says at last, turning away from her to face the sea he loves, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye and tilting his head to down to look at her face a little easier. Their difference in height is palpable and he can't help but want to ruffle her hair again. “What do you say? Ready to be a pirate?” 

Pidge looks away from him and towards the sea, where the sun sparkles off the water like Balmera Crystals. She stands in contemplation for a moment, and then her demeanor shifts. Lance would say she’s reached a decision. Pidge turns to him, and holds out her hand for a handshake. Lance looks at her for a moment before turning to face her and clasping her hand tightly with a gentle smile.

“Welcome to the crew Pidge, for real this time.”


	7. Informants and Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance chats with the King.

Lance, Hunk and Pidge walk through the shops at the Atean Capital’s market to find Pidge an acceptable outfit to meet with the King and his royal family. Pidge is not happy about this development, dragging her feet and lagging behind. 

“C’mon Pidge!” Lance yells behind him when he sees she’s lagged behind. “We need to get you some suitable clothing.” 

“I don’t want to go clothes shopping!” Pidge whines, sounding very much as young as she is. Lance learned in the week that it took to make it back to Altea that she’s fifteen, going on sixteen. 

Lance rolls his eyes at her. 

“I’m not introducing you to royalty wearing what you are.” Lance says. Pidge looks offended. 

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She demands. She does that a lot too, _demands._ Lance eyes her over his shoulder, looking her up and down. She’s wearing a lime green sweatshirt and tan cargo shorts, a design that is so clearly not Olkarion. Or Altean. Or Balmeran or Galran. Lance wonders where exactly she’s from, if perhaps she’s from across the Dividing Sea.

“That is not proper clothing, for a royal meeting or for a Pirate. At least not on my crew. We need to get you some real clothes. Clothes from _this_ side of the sea.” Lance says. Pidge backs away in shock, stuffing her hands in the one long pocket at the front of her sweatshirt and hugging herself with the cloth.

“How?” She asks, but doesn’t elaborate. 

“I’m a pirate sweetheart, not an idiot.” Lance says, then spots a shop he usually goes to for his usual sailing clothes. “In here.” Lance directs the two of them. 

It’s pretty simple to differentiate between the four kingdom’s designs. 

Altean clothing is very conservative, covering every inch of skin that isn’t the neck up, and the hands. It’s considered improper to wear anything revealing, especially for women, but for men too. Men just have a far looser standard.

Galran clothing is sharp, dark and usually thick. That side of the mountain range is often in winter like temperatures, and the _actual_ winters they have are a constant state of blizzards. It’s one of the reasons the peace talks are so strained, since Daibazal is technically starving, though Lance suspects the Emperor doesn’t actually care. 

Balmeran clothing is loose, short sleeved, and thin due to the warm temperatures, caused by the sun’s reflection off the waters surrounding it. The designs that are popular lately are very linear designs, very focused on perfect shapes and sharp lines and colors. Olkarion is warm too, but they are still a more warm design. Usually consisting of two or more thin layers that overlap each other. 

“Why can’t I just wear these clothes?” Pidge whines again. Lance rolls his eyes as the two of them step through the door behind them. Lance takes a deep breath before twisting on the heel of his foot. Pidge is right behind him and she steps backwards in shock. Lance snaps his hand out and grabs her by the hood, yanking it over her head, using her own arms, trapped in that pocket in her panic, to spin her around and yank her flush against his chest. In the same moment that she crashes backwards into him, he snaps out a knife from his hip holster and presses it hard against her neck. 

“Get it now?” Lance whispers in her ear, feeling her ragged breath and seeing it fog up the blade pressing against her neck. She nods just slightly enough so she doesn’t slit her own skin. “Good.”

Lance lets her go and sheathes his knife, turning to face the owner of the shop. 

Lance acts like nothing happened despite the wide eyed look on his plump face, and he passes the owner to browse. He picks out a very fancy dress, and a very nice pair of men’s clothes in her color, green, though certainly not in that obnoxious lime green. He holds them up for Pidge to choose from. 

“Dress or pants Pidge.” Pidge eyes both options before pointing at the men’s clothes. Lance nods, grabs two more displays of men’s clothing of very nice design, and then heads over to the back curtain. This clothes shop is Lance’s favorite because he has a special place in the back just for Lance and his crew. This is where Lance goes to get his crew set up until they get some money from raids or from the king. After coming here, it’s up to the crew members to get new clothes if they want them, and it’s their choice whether they want to come here or not. However, Lance’s crew gets a special discount. So they usually choose to return to this shop at least every now and again. 

Lance goes into the back and sifts through the clothing, choosing a few simple pairs of tight pants that reach the ankles, a pair of boots that have space for ankle holsters, a couple simple peasant shirts, a thin coat and a thick one. He also gets a pair of leather gloves, and a few of the essentials.

Lance leaves the backroom with an armful of clothing, the boots hanging by his fingertips. 

When he makes his way back into the main room of the shop he sees Pidge on the pedestal getting measured. She doesn’t look happy. Hunk is beside her trying to stay between her and the nervous owner and his assistant in case she tries to attack. Lance shakes his head with a chuckle. He grabs the attention of the owner, and upon seeing the stack of clothing, rushes to assist Lance while the assistant finishes up the measurements, running away as soon as Pidge snaps at him as he measures her chest. 

“Is this all Master McClain?” The owner asks, looking up at Lance with gold coins practically embedded in his eyes with the look he’s giving Lance. 

“Yes, all of this will need to be done within two or three days, but at least one of the nicer outfits needs to be ready within a few hours. I will return at noon for it.” Lance says. “Same deal as always, half upfront, half after.” Lance pays the man his due and then he, Hunk, and Pidge leave the shop. They still have a few hours until they have no choice but to meet with the royal family. 

“Alright we need to stop by the weapons blacksmith in town next.” Lance says. 

“Sounds good.” Hunk says, smiling. “Maybe Shay will be visiting her brother.” 

“Who’s Shay?” Pidge asks, smiling wickedly at Hunk when Lance peaks over his shoulder. Hunk’s cheeks go bright red. 

“Shay is Hunk’s girlfriend.” Lance teases. Hunk splutters. 

“No she’s not! We’re not- I mean- It’s not-” Hunk stutters. Pidge and Lance share a laugh as they ease across the crowd and into the weapon’s shop where Shay’s brother works, he will take over the shop when their grandmother steps down. Rax is a good man, but over protective of his baby sister. They walk into the shop to the sound of a bell ringing. 

“Welcome!” A deep male voice calls from the back. Rax comes out from behind the back curtain back first, carrying a large box. He’s a big guy, with a really strong build. He huffs as he sets down the box with a grunt and faces the three of them as he brushes off his hands. Rax lights up when he spots Lance. “McClain! Long time no- oh.” Rax cuts himself off as he looks at Hunk with narrowed eyes. Hunk shifts behind Lance a little at the look. “You brought _him,_ great.”

Lance doesn’t pretend to know what it is about Hunk that puts Rax off, but he’d guess it has to do with Hunk and Shay’s not-relationship. 

“Rax, meet my newest recruit, Pidge.” Lance introduces, putting a hand behind her back to push her forward. “She needs some weapons.” Rax blinks down at Pidge, then back at Lance. He looks at Pidge in bewilderment, then shrugs it off. A young pirate isn’t anything new, especially for Lance’s crew. He takes on whoever passes the trials and chooses to stay, and there are a decent handful of kids who choose to bear the Serpent Lion’s crest. He’ll have one of his crewmates sew on the crest to Pidge’s clothes eventually. 

“What are we looking for? I’ve got plenty of swords, and plenty of knives and daggers.” Rax says, leaning forward onto the sales counter. 

Lance nudges Pidge forward. 

“Go take a look around and get a feel for something you like. Don’t worry about the price.” Lance says, letting Hunk show Pidge around and help her find something she likes. Lance looks back to Rax and leans forward. Rax, while also being his go to weapons guy, is also one of Lance’s informants. As a weapon manufacturer for the King, he’s always in court, so Lance tries to make it a point to stop by for insider information. Especially after being blindsided by Prince Ronan last. 

He won’t make that mistake again. 

“So? Got anything for me Rax?” Lance whispers, trying to keep his voice low. Hunk doesn’t know Rax is his informant because he’s terrible with secrets when it comes to Shay, except apparently his own feelings for her. Hunk becomes a terrible gossip around her. Not to say that Shay is a gossip, but she would get upset if she found out Rax is working for Lance for an extra coin on the side. She doesn’t know how much the medical expenses for Rax’s prosthetic upkeep actually costs. 

And Rax demanded it stay that way. 

“Well, word is, King Alfor is trying to marry his daughter to Prince Lotor to solidify a treaty by marriage. She’s not happy about it, they haven’t spoken in weeks, since before your last visit actually.” Rax whispers. Lance’s eyebrows crease.

“She didn’t say anything.” Lance says, kind of hurt. He and Allura have been good friends since he rescued her from bandits two years ago. Keeping secrets from him is unusual for her. He’d say the same for him, but he’s a pirate, and pirates always have too many skeletons in the closet. 

“That’s because it’s a secret, but the walls have ears.” Rax says. “Speaking of. The skirmishes at the border, the mountains, have been increasing in brutality.”

“What?” Lance says, almost too loudly. The both of them turn to Hunk and Pidge who are looking through the more exotic of weapons, heads bent in deep discussion. “But aren’t the mountains too treacherous to cross with large forces?” Lance asks. Rax reaches beneath the counter and brings out a small map, the countries small but distinguishable. Rax points at the mountain range. 

“There used to be a tunnel, about here, through the mountains.” Rax says. Lance nods, he knows all of this already. 

“I know. King Alfor’s great grandfather and Emperor Zarkon’s great Uncle, they made these tunnels for trade. But they collapsed just before the King stepped down. It’s been one of the catalysts for the tension between the Empire and Altea.” Lance explains. “But what does that have to do with anything? The tunnels have been collapsed for decades.”

“There was a scout from the mountains that said otherwise. They said they spotted the Empire troops escaping behind the mountains, but when they followed, all they came to find were the caves. No army.” Rax says. He leans forward and lowers his voice even lower. “There’s supposedly no evidence that they’re in use again, but no one knows for sure yet. King Alfor is keeping it under wraps, not even the staff knows. Just the royal family and the scout.”

“Then how do you know?” Lance asks, which is a bit taboo in their relationship. Usually Lance doesn’t ask how Rax gets his information. Rax knows the better the information the more he gets paid, so whatever he resorts to for information is his business. But not this time. Rax shifts on the counter, rolling up the map and stowing it away. 

“The Princess, she spotted me spying.” Rax said. Lance cocks an eyebrow. 

“Princess Allura?” Lance asks. 

“No, Princess Romelle. She interrogated me alone, then when I told her I worked for you she told me what I needed to know.” Rax says. “By the way, she has a message.”

“Princess Romelle has a message? For me?” Lance asks incredulously. Romelle has never really approved of the relationship between him and her cousin, so Lance is surprised she wouldn’t throw Rax in the dungeon. 

“She says she needs to speak to you personally. That what she told me isn’t everything, and that you need to come by her room tonight, discreetly.” Rax says. Lance nods in understanding. 

“Is there anything else?” Lance asks, just to be sure. Rax smirks at him. 

“Unless you wanna know the details of every court relationship then no.” Rax teases, leaning back and looking over to Pidge and Hunk. Lance looks too, over his shoulder. They’re sitting on the floor, a pile of weapons of exotic design, clearly traded and not of Rax’s fine handiwork, spread around them as they talk with wild hand gestures, speaking in low tones. Lance isn’t sure he’s ever seen Hunk so giddy. That kind of makes him feel weird. 

“Anyways.” Lance says, digging into the inside pocket of his coat. He draws out the coin pouch and counts it out in his hand. Once he knows how much is in there he puts it back in the pouch and adds a few more gold coins. Lance hands the pouch to Rax, who looks at him wide eyed when he looks inside. 

“For your troubles. Next time don’t get caught, some might not treat you so well as Princess Romelle.” Lance warns. 

“Of course.” Rax mutters, eyeing the bag with almost teary eyes. “Thank you.”

Lance waves him off. “You earned it this time, but I’m warning you. Screw up again and we’re done. The only business you’ll have from me is for your well made weapons. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Rax nods him away with a thin line of his lips.

Lance walks over to Pidge and Hunk, who both look up at his approach. 

“Find anything? We need to leave soon and collect your outfit for the royal appearance.” Lance says. Pidge and Hunk share a grinning look before Pidge stands up, presenting her weapon of choice.

“Tada!” Pidge says, a bright smile across her face as Hunk ambles up from his spot on the floor. Lance looks at the weapon in confusion.

“What,” He says. “Is that?” The weapon looks like a triangle shaped blade, with a grip between the extended edges of the blade, and a long chain dropping to the floor.

Pidge and Hunk both deflate for a moment before Pidge perks back up in extreme excitement. “I don’t know what it’s called but watch!” 

The end of the chain looks like a cuff, like padded manacles, which connect to a thick glove. Pidge presses a button on the inside of the cuff where her hand goes, about where the heel of her palm is, and the chain retracts. Pidge tightens it, gripping the handle to the triangular blade and then turning away. 

“Be,” Rax gasps. He’s too late to warn them when, with a wickedly strong throw for someone so small, the chain unwinds, and the blade goes flying. It sails towards Rax who yelps and dives beneath the counter. 

The blade sinks deep into the wood of the walls, and then Pidge yanks her arm back, like dredging up a ship’s anchor all by herself, and having to put a lot of force to do so. It comes flying towards Lance, Hunk and Pidge. Hunk and Lance both dive to the floor, and Pidge squeaks in alarm. Lance and Hunk both grab a leg and yank her to the ground as the blade sails through where her head was and sinks into the wooden wall behind her. 

The shop is silent. 

“Careful.” Rax finishes lamely, and after a second of staring at the new hole in the wood paneling, he turns narrow eyes to a guilty Pidge. “That weapon is super dangerous! Watch where you’re aiming it!” 

Lance looks over at Pidge as he scrambles to his feet, helping her up. She’s got wide eyes and her mouth nearly hits the ground from how wide she’s gaping at the blade stuck in the wall behind her. 

“That,” Pidge huffs. “Was awesome! I want it.”

“What?” Lance snaps. “That thing could have killed you!” 

“I’ll get better! Please Lance? Please can I have it?” Pidge begs, giving Lance a puppy eyed look, wobbling lip and all. _Oh she’s good._

“On one condition,” Lance caves with a sigh. “You get a sword, a gun and a few daggers and you learn them first and foremost. You can practice with your whatever that is only when there is no one else around, and only if Hunk or I are there to supervise.” 

Pidge lights up like a Balmera crystal. “Thank you!” She rushes him with a hug, squeezing his stomach with every ounce of her strength. Lance coughs, but she’s certainly not as strong as Hunk. He can take Hunk’s bear hugs, so he can take hers. 

They gather the rest of the weapons and pile it onto the counter. Lance drops a coin pouch, with more money than needed for the transaction, onto the counter so hard it spills out onto the wood. He’ll admit, he’s just a little peeved that Pidge nearly killed herself with that stupid weapon.

“That’s too much.” Rax says, pushing a few of the gold coins back to Lance. Lance shakes his head and pushes the money back towards Rax. 

“For the damages.” Lance says, nodding at the deep gash in the wood behind his head. “And for almost getting you killed.”

After only a second of hesitation, Rax nods in understanding and takes the money, sweeping it into his lock box. Lance guides Pidge out from the weapon smith shop, Hunk following behind as always. 

“Alright, you have your weapons. Now to get dressed and then-” Lance says, but is cut off by Hunk’s rumbling stomach. Lance chuckles and looks towards the sky. The sun is almost at its peak, but they still have a little time.

“Yeah I guess we can get some food before our audience with the king.” Lance says. 

“Sorry.” Hunk says, blushing from embarrassment. Lance smiles at Hunk and guides them across the crowd again, dodging civilians easily, especially since most of them just kind of make a path. Before his treaty with the King, he was well known as the enemy, raiding any and all ships that cross his path. Now people know he’s a friendly, and almost revere him like they do royalty. It’s a chilling thought, and an exhilarating one. 

They enter the clothing shop where Pidge is immediately ushered to the dressing room. She emerges a few minutes later tugging at the new outfit. It’s much like Lance’s in design, a coat made of a deep green and lined with black. There’s a few swirling designs that are almost hypnotic to look at embroidered in white thread, hardly noticeable until the light hits it right. Her pants are black, form fitted and thick enough to help deflect blade slices, but not so thick you suffer in the heat.

Lance nods in approval. “To food!”

When their bellies are full and their minds are prepared, Lance’s especially, they set off for the castle steps. On the way Hunk is debriefing Pidge of all the royal decorum she must abide by. The bowing, the speaking in turn, addressing formalities of the royal family. All of it. Pidge is rolling her eyes the entire time, but Lance warns her if she embarrasses him he’ll kill her. She doesn’t take him seriously. Because of course. 

Lance is escorted in by the gate guards, and greeted by Princess Romelle.

Romelle is blonde, her hair the color of sunflowers, and her eyes as blue as the sea on a stormy night. She’s tall, with a strong chin, wearing a short dress of pale pink, with men’s pants underneath, tucked into boots. Her hair is down, with two braided strips of hair pinned behind her ears. She has the same ceremonial markings on her cheeks, tattoos to represent royalty. Every Prince, and every Princess must have the markings given to them by the king when he deems them eligible for the throne. 

All four of the royal family have the markings. Meaning, should King Alfor not appoint an heir before his death it is decided by the council of royal advisors to make the decision. That process hasn’t been used in years, and surely it won’t happen anytime soon. Lance ascends the stairs quickly and takes a knee to kiss the Princess’s hand. This time he’s not with Allura so he does it out of formality rather than teasing. 

“Princess Romelle, I am honored you would greet me.” Lance says. Romelle smiles at him, but formally, not friendly. 

“Did you receive my message?” Romelle asks, not moving her lips from the smile as Hunk and Pidge ascend the stairs at last. 

“Loud and clear, your Highness.” Lance responds. Romelle nods at him, and guides him into the castle. She doesn’t say another word, not even small talk. Pidge tries to ask Hunk a question quietly but Lance shoots her a glare and she silences. This is not so much a warm invitation into the castle, as it is a show of power, and Lance would rather not anger the Princess before he has a talk with her alone. 

They enter into the throne room, and this time the only attendees of the audience are the royal family, and Lance and his two crew mates. Lance steps up to the raised dais, sweeps his coat back and kneels before the royal family. As he kneels, Romelle sinks into a low curtsy and rises a few moments later to ascend to her seat beside her father. 

“Rise Captain.” King Alfor says. Lance sweeps to his feet, glancing behind to make sure Pidge stays kneeling alongside Hunk. She does stay kneeling, but only because Hunk has his hand on her shoulder. Lance looks back to the King, and clears his throat with a smile. 

“Your majesty, thank you for seeing me.” Lance says formally, bowing at the waist a little in respect. 

“No thank you, you managed to bring us the shipment from Olkarion when all of my vessels were ambushed by pirates.” King Alfor says. 

“The same pirate you were supposed to capture that is.” Ronan sneers. 

“Ronan!” Alfor snaps, before turning back to Lance. “So Captain, are you going to present your guest or not?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” Ronan mutters. Alfor’s face turns red, and his beard shifts as he grinds his teeth.

“That’s enough! Prince Ronan, you are dismissed from this audience.” King Alfor commands. Ronan scoffs, stands and marches from the room without so much as a bow in respect. King Alfor sighs, running his fingers over his forehead for a second before smiling down at Lance. “Your guest Captain?”

Lance bows and turns to Pidge to offer his hand to help her up. She takes it, and Lance steers her beside him. He keeps his hands on her shoulders, one arm extended to wrap over her shoulders. “This is my newest recruit, Pidge. She will be by my side until I can teach her to fight and protect herself to my satisfaction, so she will be attending a few audiences for now, your Majesty.” Lance introduces. 

“Very good, it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Pidge.” King Alfor says. He hesitates and then stands from his throne, sweeping his cloak out of the way as he descends the stairs. Lance straightens, hands behind his back. He nudges Pidge and nods at her to kneel beside Hunk once more. She does as he wishes. 

“Captain, may we speak in private?” King Alfor asks, but it isn’t a request. 

“Of course your Majesty.” Lance lowers his head slowly. The king has never asked for a one on one audience before, so Lance is stepping into unknown territory. 

“Daughter, Romelle, perhaps you two could show Miss Pidge and First Mate Hunk around the castle while I speak to the Captain.” King Alfor says, and again it’s not a request. Romelle and Allura stand in unison and curtsy low to the ground. They hold the curtsy until King Alfor turns to leave. Lance follows diligently. They walk through the halls for a while in silence, making their way to the gardens for privacy. Every staff member and servant stops what they’re doing to bow or curtsy in respect as King Alfor passes. 

The gardens are as beautiful as always, filled with every flower and plant in the kingdom and quite a few that aren’t indigenous. 

“Captain,” King Alfor starts, then chuckles to himself. “I mean Lance, I have a favor to ask of you.” Lance doesn’t respond, waiting for the king to voice his favor. 

King Alfor stops at a flower bed of juniberries, Allura’s favorite flower. He gently eases a drooping flower bud back to full height, and as he let’s go the flower blooms. Juniberries are almost sentient flowers, they require a nurturing touch when planted deliberately. Wild juniberries feed off the love of their kin, but like tamed animals, planted and contained juniberries need a human touch to thrive. It doesn’t take magic of any kind to make them happy, just a gentle touch. 

“My daughter, Allura, you are close friends correct?” King Alfor asks. Lance nods, then answers verbally. 

“Yes your Majesty.” Lance says. “Is that an issue?” 

“No no,” King Alfor chuckles. “Quite the opposite in fact. I’m sure you have heard of the peace talks with Emperor Zarkon?” 

“Of course.” Lance says, getting skeptical. “The peace talks have been happening for months, and the outcome will determine the fate of all four countries on this side of the Dividing Sea.”

“Exactly. However, the talks are failing. And neither Altea nor Daibazal can withstand war of the magnitude Zarkon is threatening. So I decided to try a new tactic to make the peace talks stabilize at the very least.” King Alfor explains. Lance is getting the feeling this favor is something he will both not like, and will also involve the information Rax divulged to him earlier in the day. King Alfor turns from the juniberry bed to face Lance head on. 

“I am hoping to marry my Allura to Zarkon’s son Lotor.” Alfor says, voice low to avoid listening ears. Lance can feel the dread building in his stomach. 

“What,” Lance pauses to swallow dryly. “Does this have to do with me?”

“Allura is against the idea.” King Alfor says slowly and Lance does the inappropriate thing and cuts him off. Doesn’t matter. This treaty between Lance and the King is for Allura, and the money. Otherwise it is shaky at best, tenuous, delicate. 

“But of course she is, you want to marry her off to someone she doesn’t love.” Lance says, a hint of hostility in his tone. He is undoubtedly over protective of Allura. 

“Right,” King Alfor says, chuckling bitterly. “It isn’t something I want to do, believe me, but my first priority is this kingdom’s safety and prosperity. I have to consider every option to avoid war. And this is an option. Not the best, but one of few available left.” King Alfor explains. Lance feels a little bad for the man, having to make the decisions he does can’t be the easiest of things. 

“What is your favor, your Majesty?” Lance whispers, his voice hoarse. 

“Talk to Allura, convince her to at least consider.” King Alfor asks, practically begs with his eyes. He looks sorrowful. “Or else,” he trails off. 

“Or else,” Lance sucks in a deep breath. “What?” King Alfor looks away, and then his face hardens. 

“Or else I will have to declare you an enemy of the kingdom, and you will be held prisoner should you ever return to Altea.” King Alfor says. And Lance? Lance hates ultimatums, and this one is a knife to the heart. Lance breaths out shakily, keeping his composure. 

“Fine, I will speak to her, but I will not promise any results that you want. In the end, this is her decision, her future and her Queen-dom to be.” Lance says decidedly. Then he leans forward, whispering directly into the King’s ear. “And consider our contract broken. I will be cordial, I will be respectful, but unless it is asked of me from Allura and Allura only, I will do no favors for you. Which includes the safety of your own ships from my crew.” 

Lance leans back, steps back, and sinks into a low bow at the waist, one hand on his chest, the other sweeping wide. “Your Majesty.” 

Lance walks away without looking back. He hears King Alfor sigh in sorrow, but he doesn’t look back.


	8. Princess Romelle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance meets up with Romelle in the dead of night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UuuuUUUgghh I left my computer charger at my mother's and now I have no computerrrrrr

Lance dresses in all black as the sun goes down, getting ready to break into the castle to meet with Romelle, and maybe Allura after. He slips on his darkest coat and cloak with a hood. Lance waits in his cabin on his ship as the people left on the ship start heading off to bed. Lance waits for as long as he can before he slips out of his cabin by using the window, carefully climbing down the side of his ship. He had personally installed a ladder into the side of the ship one day, so he could climb down from his bedroom window. He had installed it when Hunk started to get a little overprotective of Lance, since he seems to always manage to get into sticky situations. 

Lance climbs down slowly, trying not to make any noise that might wake up or alert his crew. When he gets to the bottom of the vertical ladder, Lance eases his way across the ledge he also installed so he can get to the portside and make it onto the dock. This way he doesn’t have to get wet unnecessarily. 

Which is ironic seeing as Lance could just bend the water to his will and take it off him. It just makes his clothes so stiff. 

Lance grabs the chain of the anchor, and slides down to the dock, landing lightly on the balls of his feet so he doesn’t wake up the sleeping dock worker camped out on a stack of crates. He’s supposed to be a watchman or something, but he’s failing pretty heavily at his job right now. Lance sneaks past him and gives a quick look behind him to make sure there’s no one following him. 

Lance does this all the way to the castle, and then hides behind a building to look at the guards and the wall surrounding the entirety of the castle. The guards are chatting, distracted by each other as one dances a flame around his fingers idly. Lance looks at the wall instead. It’s tall, and it has no hand holds or ways to climb over, plus it’s got guards walking the top of it. Lance eases around the wall out of sight, almost to the other side of the castle. 

It takes him time to find a fault in the defenses for him to make it on the other side. 

Lance comes upon a part of the wall that opens at the bottom where a small stream feeds into a pond farther into the trees. Lance looks up to look for any guards, and while there are a few, Lance doesn’t consider them a threat unless he’s spotted. Lance sinks into the trees, following the stream until he can’t see the lights of the castle. When he reaches that point he checks the depth of the stream, happy to find it actually goes down about waist deep. Lance sinks low into the icy water, until it surges over his mouth. He sucks in a breath through his nose and sinks fully under. 

Lance forms a sort of bubble with his magic, despite it making him just a little bit dizzy. He’s still recovering just a little from that huge ice dome he made to save his ship from sinking. He can use magic no problem, it just gives him nausea and a little bit of dizziness. It usually fades once he works with his magic a little longer, as if the side effects are just his magic being sore and needing a good stretch to get back to normal. 

Lance waits for the nausea and dizziness to pass before using his magic to propel him, sending himself flying from the woods and into the open. The stream gets deeper as he reaches the castle walls. Enough that he can go vertical and actually stay under the water about a foot. He eyes the metal bars of the grate, looking for a way in. His chest is tightening as he starts to lose his breath a little, but he can keep going. Lance swims closer to the bars, finding they're welded into small squares no bigger than his fist. He swims deeper until he reaches the bottom, and realizes that the bars don't reach all the way down. 

The opening is small, but Lance is pretty flexible. 

Lance flattens himself to the bottom of the stream, grabbing a hold of the bars and sliding on his back beneath them. The bars aren't flat ended, they're pointy, and Lance watches wide eyed as one gets too close to his eyes. It scraps against his nose, but doesn't split open his skin. Lance eases his chest through, curling his body so his head and arms are towards the bars but that his chest is back. He sucks in his stomach as much as possible, and then pauses as he reaches his groin. 

He so does _not_ want to get his dick cut off because he's sneaking into the castle to meet with Princess Romelle. 

Lance eases his hips through and he would have sighed in relief if he had a way to breath back in. His legs are easy, and soon he's on the other side of the stream. Lance floats to the surface just enough to get his mouth above the water line. He lets the bad breath out slowly, then breathes in a good lungful before going down again. He sticks to the lowest part of the stream for as long as he can, despite it starting to arc upwards just the slightest amount at a time. When Lance's head starts breaching the water despite him being nearly flush to the ground, Lance flips and looks up. 

All he sees is darkness.

He puts his ear above water to listen for any footsteps or talking or breathing and finds nothing. Lance surges his head slowly above the water and takes a deep breath the moment his mouth clears the surface. When he steps out of the water, he realizes that he's in a small cavern, the stream having run underneath the rock, and the small pool he's in getting shallower until it's to his ankles, where there is a small ledge just above the water. Lance steps out and inhales long and slowly through his nose, or tries to anyway, before he gags at the smell. 

"What in the," Lance mutters under his breath. He looks down at his wet clothing and takes a cautious sniff. He nearly vomits at the smell. What is going on? Lance looks around him in confusion. He knows he took a bath just this morning, why does he all of a sudden smell like shit?

_Oh no._

Lance yanks his cloak off his neck and sees it muddied, or hopefully muddied on the back. Feeling nausea that's not due to his own magic, he leans as close as he dares and takes a whiff. He recoils back in horror. He can't meet a princess smelling like literal shit! This is bad, oh this is bad, this is bad, this is BAD! Lance tries to figure out a way to get the smell out when he hears footsteps. He looks around for somewhere to hide but the walls are near smooth. He looks back at the water with a grimace and runs in, holding his breath. He uses his magic to surge around him and drag him under silently, waiting for the person to come and go. 

He's close enough to the surface that he can see as the light from a lantern as someone walks in, a dark but wide figure. He expects them to leave, like maybe they heard something and came to check. Instead the lantern is down, and the figure is moving, and suddenly the figure isn't wide at all, it's slim, but they were holding something. The figure leans down to the light, and Lance sees a bucket, a wooden bucket. The bucket tips and something is spilling over, and Lance has to avoid the stream of human waste, but he's not fast enough with either his body or the magic, and a pile of shit smacks into his chest. 

He gags, and maybe vomits a little in his mouth.

Lance waits until the figure leaves, and climbs out as soon as possible. He retches into the stream of human waste, then retches some more when the smell attacks his nostrils. The smell is so foul, so thick it sets his skin on fire. He tries to get the waste, the human shit, off of his clothes, but the moment his fingers touch even just a little of it, he vomits. Lance wipes his mouth with the inside of his shirt, and grabs his discarded cloak floating in the water. He uses the good side to wipe away all the stains as best as he can, and then throws the cloak to the farthest wall, kicking it closer to the stone to avoid it being noticed too much. 

Lance makes his way out of the cavern, light on his feet, fingers plugging his nose against his own stench. 

He follows the little winding hallway until he reaches a set of wooden stairs. -- Lance climbs the stairs slowly, wincing at the creaks they give as he ascends. There's no windows, nor any light, so he has both hands on the walls beside him to guide his way. Not that they will help much but it's whatever. He reaches the top of the stairs where a door is, and slowly opens it a crack to look for anyone who might see him should he slip out. There's voices, distant ones, but no one nearby. Lance eases the door open some more to look around, and realizes he's in the servant's quarters. 

A line of beds goes from wall to wall in the long hallways, all of them bunked with another bed on top. Some of them, most of them really, have people snoozing away. Lance supposes the only people awake are the night workers. Or the late ones at least. Lance slips out of the doorway, easing it shut, and slipping to the ground. He hopes no one wakes up, he's pretty sure he just looks like a demonic mass of black crawling across the floor. Lance slips under the beds as people pass, which isn't often, but he keeps to the floor until he reaches the end of the hall.

When he gets there, he figures out that the voices are two girls whispering to each other in the dark, engaged in a quiet conversation. Lance doesn't bother to wait for them to notice the awful smell and gets right up close to the wall. He starts to ease the door open, but when a sliver of light falls through the crack he backtracks. He can't open the door wide enough for him to slip through without alerting the whispering girls a few beds down. 

Lance tries to figure out what he needs to do, but is interrupted by the pattering of slipper covered feet. Lance sidles up beside the door, hidden in the corner where the shadows are thickest, and then he waits. The door eases open swiftly, the light hitting just beyond his feet, nearly exposing him. The girl isn't very quiet as she moves to her own bed, coincidentally placed near the whispering girls. Lance uses the sound of her flopping onto a mattress as noise enough to slip out before the door closes completely. 

He makes it out with no one the wiser. Lance knows his way around the castle since he's fooled around with quite a few of the servants and staff. He slips into crevices when patrolling guards or wandering servants cross his path, always wincing when someone makes a comment about the awful smell. Lance has gone nose blind himself, so he isn't sure just how strong the odor is anymore.

Lance makes it to the royal quarters in no time once he gets past all the servants going to bed. 

He knocks on the door lightly, hearing a feminine, but sharp voice speak from within and give him permission to enter. Lance does as told and enters quietly, slipping the door shut behind him with a very faint click. He lets out a relieved breath when he realizes he has the right room after all, as he sees Romelle at her vanity, brushing out sunflower yellow hair, still wearing her day dress and men’s pants. 

"Lance, good you came." Romelle says, looking at him through the mirror. She sets down her brush and stands gracefully. She moves towards him and he tries to step away, but she had a head start. Romelle freezes in her tracks as a look of pure disgust washes over her face. Her blue tattoos marking her eligibility for the crown almost glow on her face. Romelle raises her hand to her nose, looking around her room for the origin of the smell. Lance slowly backs away in embarrassment. 

Romelle sees the movement and looks at him with grossed out confusion. 

“Lance.” She says. Lance hums his acknowledgement. “Why do you smell like that?”

Lance squirms uncomfortably, edging away from her with a scowl. He mutters the reason he smells like shit is because he swam in a stream full of shit. And apparently used shit to squeeze through a thin opening. And then swam in shit and nearly got hit in the face, with shit. Lance doesn't mutter loud enough.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Princess Romelle asks, completely confused and bewildered. Lance mutters again. "Lance I can't hear you, please explain why-"

"I swam in a stream of shit okay!" Lance snaps. Romelle blinks at him in shock. 

"Pardon?" She says, a hand over her heart as she finally backs away.

"I swam in what turned out to be the waste dump. I have shit all over- why are you laughing?" Lance says. Romelle, has the hand not over her heart, over her mouth tightly, her eyes wrinkling at the edges. Lance crosses his arms, face hot in a wild blush. He glares at her as her giggles escape her lips. "Stop laughing at me."

"I'm sorry," Romelle cuts herself off giggling. She clears her throat, and folds her hands demurely over her short dress and pants. "Forgive me, but may I ask why you swam in the stream we dump waste into?" 

"I didn't know that's what it was, and besides, it was the only way past the castle walls I could find." Lance says. Romelle giggles a little more. "It's not funny!" He snaps in defense. Romelle stifles her giggles again. 

"Of course, my apologies." Romelle says, but her smile is still too wide. Lance feels his eye twitch and he stalks towards her. Romelle gasps and scurries away. "Don't come any closer with that horrid smell about you!" 

"You asked me for a late night rendezvous, are you not going to greet me with a kiss?" Lance taunts. Romelle runs away again, still giggling. Lance fights a smile of his own, satisfied to make her laugh. At least she will be a tad bit more cordial to him, hopefully. "At least grace me with the honor of kissing your hand." 

Romelle actually climbs over her bed to avoid him. The bed is so large it's almost the size of his cabin on the ship. They play chase a little longer before Lance relents, allowing Romelle to laugh until she's ready to get down to business. Her laugh is high pitched like her voice, but soon her laughter silences from laughing too long. Her shoulders shake as she collapses back into her vanity chair from the effort. 

Lance laughs with her, opting to stand in the back of the room by the window so the smell doesn't stick to her room.

“So, what is it you asked me here for Princess?” Lance asks. Romelle’s smile falls a little and she clears her throat, standing up and smoothing her dress out. 

“Right, um.” Romelle says, very ineloquently, which is unlike a member of the royal family to do. “Did that man, Ray?”

“Rax.” Lance corrects. 

“Right, did Rax tell you what I told him?” Romelle asks, moving forward just enough to whisper and still be heard by Lance. Lance uncrosses his arms and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, and he said you had more information or something?” Lance asks unsurely. 

“So you know about the tunnels then?” She asks again, Lance nods. “Good, because what I have to say has to do with them.”

“Okay?” Lance says, sounding more like a question then a confirmation. 

“Okay listen, the forces of Daibazal, the ones that disappeared through the tunnels? They aren’t like normal forces of the Empire. They’re different.” Romelle says. 

“Different how?” Lance asks. 

“Well for one, they aren’t Daibazalee, they’re Altean, and Balmeran, and Olkari.” Romelle says. Lance’s eyebrows raise. 

“I thought you said they were forces of the Empire?” 

“They are. There are a lot of things my uncle has been hiding from the public, and that includes the growing lists of kidnapped people from the outskirts of the kingdom. And when these forces attack, they’re _our_ people, but different.”

Lance stresses his question once more. “Different _how?”_ Romelle steps closer, wrinkles her nose from the smell, then backs away again. She takes a slow breath and releases it. 

“They’re not human anymore, they’re stronger than humanly possible, faster, _changed._ There are reports from some who recognized the people, and they claim even their magic is different.” Romelle says, pausing again. Lance huffs. 

“Princess, I’ll ask again. ‘Different’ how?” Lance says. 

“Fine,” Romelle huffs at him. “Those with the basic elements, those who control water or fire or earth or air. They don’t control those elements anymore. They control an older one, a less known element.”

Romelle pauses again, and Lance gets just a little fed up with all the dramatic pauses. “Romelle, please, just spit it out.” Romelle rolls her eyes.

“Fine sheesh, they control Darkness okay? They control the shadows, not the element they were born with.” Romelle explains, a grim look about her face. Lance ponders on what she said, now that it’s all out in the open. 

So super humans who used to be regular humans who lived under the rules of Balmera, Olkarion and Altea, and who control an almost unknown magic when they couldn’t before? Yeah that sounds pretty bad for Altea. But what does this have to do with Lance? He’s a pirate, and kind of the enemy now that he’s cut ties to the King. 

He really needs to talk to Allura.

“Why are you telling me this Princess?” Lance asks, returning his thoughts to the situation at hand. Romelle sighs, stepping backward to sit on her bed. 

“My uncle doesn’t want to do anything about it until he has no choice, which pretty much means he’ll wait until war has already hit Altea hard before fighting back.” Romelle says, she stands and walks over to her vanity, grabbing the brush she was using before Lance came in the room. Lance moves closer so they aren’t shouting across the room at each other. Lance can see her face in the mirror, and she’s frowning as she works a hair brush through her long blonde hair. 

“What if the peace talks work though?” Lance asks, not divulging that he knows about King Alfor’s plan to marry Allura to Prince Lotor of Daibazal. Princess Romelle’s face creases in outrage, cheeks burning red from her anger. She stands up so quickly her chair falls backwards, but her hand snaps out to grab it before it can hit the floor. 

That was very intimidating, and kind of sexy too. 

“There is no peace talks Lance, just Emperor Zarkon making a fool of the king and keeping him distracted.” Romelle says, in a very calm and logical voice. Despite her cheeks and expression burning with rage. “We are at war here, Uncle Alfor just doesn’t realize it yet.”

“Okay, but why are you telling me? I’m just a pirate.” Lance says. Romelle takes a deep breath and the angry flush fades from her cheeks. She takes a seat delicately at her vanity once more, but she sits facing Lance as she brushes her hair. 

“Because I'm a Princess, not a General, not yet. I have no control over what happens in this war until my cousin is sworn in as Queen.” Romelle says. 

“But aren’t you still eligible for the throne? Your marks.” Lance says, gesturing to her face, the two vaguely triangular marks, like boomerangs, tattooed in blue on her cheek bones. Romelle runs her fingers over them gently. 

“These marks may say one thing, but everyone knows it is Allura who is destined for the throne, and she can have it. I am not a queen, I am a strategist, a warrior. A warrior who wears dresses to appease the social requirements of the court.” Romelle says. She sets down her hair brush and stands up, walking close to Lance, despite the smell that must be horrible to be face to face with. She keeps a straight face despite it.

“And you, you are a pirate. A captain no less. You have free reign, free will, the ability to _do something_ about the information I have supplied you.” Romelle says, she goes to set a hand on his shoulder, but draws back at the last moment. “I need your help Lance, to save my country. _Our_ country.” 

Lance is silent for a moment, mind racing with what she’s asking of him. 

“Please.” Romelle says. She backs away, and then does the most scandalous thing of all for a princess, warrior or not. She sinks low to the ground in a curtsy before him, head bowed low. “I beg of you, Captain Lance McClain, as a person, not as royalty. Help me end this war before everyone and everything we care about is destroyed.” 

“Princess, please.” Lance laughs nervously. “You shouldn’t beg someone of lower standing, I’m just a pirate.” 

Romelle looks up, still holding her curtsy for a second longer before she stands as graceful as the ocean waves. “But you are not of lower standing, are you?” 

Lance looks into her blue eyes, hard as ice as she looks into his. Just by looking at her, Lance knows that _she_ knows. That she knows his biggest secret, his biggest fear. Lance swallows thickly. 

“What do you know?” Lance asks, just to be on the safe side. Romelle leans in close, so that her lips are mere inches from his ear when she whispers. 

“I know everything Lance. It is my job to know.” She leans away. “So? Your answer?” 

“Okay, I’ll think of something, I’ll help you.” Lance says slowly. Lance, feeling as if he’s overstayed his welcome, walks towards the door. 

“Thank you, your highness.” Romelle whispers, barely audible, but in the silence of the room it sounds as if she yelled it from the rooftops. Lance stops in his tracks, hand on the knob of the door, his grip so tight his knuckles whiten. Lance swallows thickly, but doesn’t reply. He opens the door but is stopped again.

“By the way.” Romelle calls out, voice getting closer as she does. Lance closes the door and turns to her. “You can’t capture Keith Kogane, the Dragon.” 

Lance is more shocked about that, than her knowing his biggest secret. 

“Why the hell not? He’s a menace, the enemy!” Lance yells, then quiets when she glares at him for being too loud. “Why not Princess?” 

“Because he’s on our side.” Romelle says. “And you can call me Romelle you know, since you _are_ a pr-”

“Don’t.” Lance hisses. “Don’t say that word. What do you mean he’s on our side?” 

“Keith Kogane, also known as the Dragon, is working for me. He’s my informant, and a spy. You can’t bring him in.” Romelle says. She steps forward. “Promise me.”

Lance doesn’t like making promises, and he frankly doesn’t care. Captain Kogane is an ass, and the enemy. _Lance_ is the one who proposed he bring in the Dragon, and he makes good on what he promises. This? This he refuses to promise on. Informant or not, Kogane is going down, and he is going to leave _Lance’s waters_ alone. 

“I can’t promise that Princess. I am bringing him in.” Lance says. He turns back to the door again.

“If the Dragon is brought in, your secret is no longer mine to keep.” Romelle says, or rather she _threatens_. Lance grits his teeth and rounds on her in anger. He doesn’t get to say anything because she beats him to it. “Promise me, or the court will know of your true identity, Prince Lance.” 

Lance seethes at her in silence, before he grits his teeth. “Fine, I promise.”

“Thank you, and I’m sorry it had to resort to blackmail. I hope you will forgive me someday.” Princess Romelle says, with sorrow in her voice. Lance turns and leaves the room without another word. 

Lance stalks towards Allura’s room with a churning in his gut. He does, however, slip into the men’s servant quarters to steal fresh clothes and wash off this smell a little before he seeks Allura out. This way, he can just walk out the front gate as a servant, with no one the wiser.


	9. Princess Allura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Allura have a chat.

Lance finds Allura’s room with hardly any issue.

The two of them have been friends for many years, he’s been to her room plenty of times to listen to her rant about something the court did to piss her off. He pulls down the ratty beret he found underneath a bed in the farthest corner of the servant men’s quarters, dusty and cobwebbed and forgotten, as a guard walks past him. These halls are a lot more guarded since it’s getting pretty close to dawn, and servant’s and guards are readying the castle for daytime. 

Lance spots Prince Ronan and a guard walking down the hall ahead, and he keeps his hat low, bowing to the Prince as he passes. Ronan barely glances towards Lance, and they both keep walking. Lance steps up to Allura’s door and slips quietly inside to her foyer. 

Unlike Romelle’s room, Allura’s is a full blown suite, with a greeting foyer, a day room, an adjoining master bed and washroom, as well as a walk-in closet and her own office. The office is to the right of the day room, and the bedroom and washroom off to the left. Lance peeks into the office first, knowing she tends to fall asleep on the little couch when she has a late night doing princessy paperwork or whatever. 

As expected, there she is, curled up on the small couch, her silver hair splayed over the arm of the couch where her head rests. 

Lance eases into the room with a smile and quietly steps to the window, avoiding the creaky flooring. He moves the curtain to the side to gauge the time, and finds he still has an hour or so until dawn. Or rather, in Altean, he has a _varga_ or so until dawn. His learning of the native language of Altea is slow at best, non existent at worst. 

Lance perches on the side of her desk, delicately scooting a stack of papers aside without making too much of a mess. 

He starts idly humming an old ballad from his home country, already feeling a lot more relaxed than earlier. His conversation with Romelle slips from his mind as he focuses on the ballad, using her letter opener to pick at his nails. 

“Mmm, that’s a pretty song.” Allura murmurs. Lance glances at her to find she hasn’t really woken up yet. So he keeps humming as he checks the time of day again, finding not much time has passed. The sun hasn’t even turned the sky purple yet, but it will soon. 

“Lance?” Allura says mid yawn, which makes her usual pronunciation of his name go from _Lonce_ to _Lawnsh._ Lance snorts in amusement. 

“Welcome to land of the living.” Lance teases. “About time you woke up, I was running out of nails to clean.” He waves the letter opener through the air with a wicked grin. Allura blinks at him, yawns again, and then slips off the couch with a glare.

“Would you leave my things be, Lance?” Allura grumbles, re-positioning the stack of papers and grabbing the letter opener to put on top of the stack. “Why are you here anyways? Shouldn’t you be setting off to sail soon?”

“Yeah but I needed to talk to you.” Lance says, getting right to the point. 

“What about?” Allura says, walking into her day room to pour a glass of water. Lance follows and plops onto her couch. Allura sits down gently, not giving up all of her decorum even when it’s just the two of them. She’ll be a great queen one day. With how much time she dedicates to learning everything she can and taking over bit by bit from her father, Lance believes she’ll go down in history as one of the greatest queens to have lived. 

He can already see her as queen.

The Allura sitting on the couch in a comfortable nightgown covered by a fluffy white robe fades, and he sees her in a huge, beautiful golden ball gown. The color sparkles in the daylight, and her long silver curls are twisted into an elegant bun, with a braided crown. On her gloved right hand is the ring of the crown, and she holds a golden scepter, with a beautiful Balmera crystal embedded in the center. He watches her kneel before an Altean priest, who gently settles the golden crown in her hair. 

Lance watches as a tear falls down her sad face.

“Lance?” Allura says, and as Lance blinks, the image of Allura in a golden gown fades back into Allura in a night robe. He blinks away the last glistening golden pieces of what he saw. “Lance are you alright?” 

“Sorry, I was thinking.” Lance says with a reassuring smile. He glances at the window and finds it’s still not a pink sky yet, but the purple was lighter now. “Your father asked me to talk to you.”

“Oh for goodness sake.” Allura rolls her eyes, her worry over him seeming to have been forgotten. “You too?”

“He just asked that I talk to you about considering the marriage with the Daibazalee Prince is all.” Lance placates. He crosses his left leg over the other, propping his foot up on his knee. “Frankly I think the entire idea is bogus. Altea is not a country who marries for politics.”

Allura relaxes from her tense posture, having drawn herself up for a fight the instant Lance mentioned her father. “Good, because it isn’t happening.” 

Lance looks at her for a long moment, looking past her almost ethereal beauty. Her eyes are dark underneath, the skin around her eyes tight, her lips thinned just as tightly. Her face is normally pale, but she looks just a bit paler than usual. And thinner. 

“Allura, why didn’t you tell me you haven’t hardly spoken to your father in weeks?” Lance asks gently, trying not to provoke anger. Allura may soon be a good queen, but she is quick to anger. Luckily, she’s just as quick to calm herself enough for politeness and political neutrality. She’ll grow out of her easily angered personality, something in his gut tells him she’ll be scarily calm in the future, no matter the situation.

She sighs and runs a hand through her tangled curls, yanking gently at a few knots. “You were busy, what will all these missions my father has been sending you on lately. At this point you aren’t even really a pirate anymore, you’re more like a foreign liaison and a vessel of soldiers to him. I didn’t want to trouble you.”

“Allura you could never trouble me.” Lance says, leaning forward to gently grasp at her hand not untangling her wild silver curls. She turns her hand so they’re palm to palm and grips tightly for a moment in gratitude. Although, the look on her face never does truly dissipate. Like she was already mourning his death. 

“It’s just, after everything you’ve done for me, I wouldn’t want you to be pushed into too much too fast.” Allura whispers. Lance sighs at her and glances out the window. The sky is pink and orange, foretelling the sun rise that is sure to come soon. The view from Allura’s quarters is truly a spectacular one, and for a moment he realizes just how she always knows when he’s back in port. 

In the distance, Lance can just almost make out the flag of his ship, an ouroboros serpent circling a roaring lion’s face. He pulls at her hand, and guides her to the window so they can look out over the horizon in the far distance. 

“Just as the sun rises every morning and sets every night, I am always willing to serve you, my Queen.” Lance proclaims, lifting her hand to kiss the back of it. This time he’s not teasing, he is dead serious. Allura finally smiles that bright smile she gets when Lance gets all dramatic, part fondness, part amusement. It is truly when she looks most beautiful in his eyes. 

“I’m not queen yet Lance, but thank you. You have made me feel a lot better.” Allura stands on her toes so she can kiss his forehead. He takes the affectionate gesture with a happy smile. 

Their relationship isn’t a courtship, it isn’t romantic or sexual in any way. He views her like his sister, someone he knows he can count on no matter the cost. Much like Hunk is of Lance, and Lance is of Pidge, he’s extremely protective of Allura. If he has any say to it, she will never be harmed so long as she may reign. 

“No, you aren’t crowned yet, but I already know you will be a wondrous ruler, Princess Allura, first of her name, future queen of Altea.” Lance grins as they separate. “Now I must get back to my ship before Hunk wakes and freaks out, and if your father asks, we got into a fight because I tried my damnedest to convince you to marry the Daibazalee prince.”

Allura laughs high and light, her hand automatically moving to cover her mouth. 

“As you wish Captain.”

Lance ends their meeting with a deep and respectful bow, kisses her hand once more, and moves to slip out of her room before the servants swarm her to get her ready for the day. She whispers a thank you as he closes the door, keeping the hat low on his head.  
He’s practically forgotten the entire conversation with Romelle at this point, but as he turns a corner, they almost run into each other. Romelle recognizes him easily as they step apart, and Lance’s mood immediately crashes. 

“Princess.” Lance greets coldly, and then goes to walk away but her quiet words nearly stop him in his tracks. 

“Remember our conversation, your highness.”

“How could I forget?” Lance bites out and then escapes down the hall, down the stairs, around a few corners and out of the castle. The gate guards barely bat an eye as he rushes out and back to his ship, anger and frustration building all over again in his gut. 

He makes it into his quarters on the ship minutes before Cook's voice floats down to him from the main deck. He has just enough time to slip on his usual pirate-dramatic blue coat and new clothes, strap on his weapons, and splash some water into his tired eyes before he steps out onto the main deck with a yawn and a frown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, I actually wrote the ballad that Lance is humming because it becomes important later, but I don't know if I want to include it when the time is right in the story. Though I worked hard on it so I guess why not.


	10. Nyma's Trials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyma goes through the trials to be apart of Lance's crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wahoo two in one night!

“Where were you last night?” Pidge inquires. She’s hanging upside down from the railing of the quarter deck when Lance exits his room, sleep deprived and angry. Lance ends up nearly headbutting her when he walks out, since she’s facing his door. 

Not creepy at all, of course. 

Lance weaves around her, to walk away, and Pidge flips down onto the deck like she’s practiced it a million times. The girl is a monkey, has to be. Lance ignores her as he walks across the top deck, even as she races ahead of him to sit on the crates Lance used as a chair when she was enduring her trials. Lance rolls his eyes as he goes to pass her.

“Oh come on, don’t pretend you don’t hear me. I saw you leave last night, where’d you go?” Pidge yells from behind him, and the question garners the attention of his crew left on the ship. 

“Captain leaving his ship in the middle of the night?” One asks out loud. 

“Without the First Mate?!” Another chimes in.

“Scandalous!” They share a round of laughter at his expense, and Lance scowls. He flees to the kitchens and Cook greets him with a grunt and a piece of toast, courtesy of Cook’s fire magic. Lance takes it and heads back up, having taken just long enough that the rest of his crew are filing onto the ship after a late night of drinking, sex, and hangovers. 

They are all laughing and joking, being rowdy despite the many looks of pain across his crew’s faces, due to the many hangovers. 

“Oi! Captain!” One of them yells to him. “Heard you snuck off last night! Who was the lucky lad or lady?” 

Another round of laughter at his expense. Lance feels his eyebrow twitch in annoyance. He hasn’t slept all night, due to having to meet with not one but two princesses in secret, and due to what Romelle told him. Not necessarily about the super humans, or about the Dragon. Her reminding him of his past and his familial relations made him too keyed up to get any peace of mind before having to deal with his crew too.

The jeering goes on for a while longer, even after Hunk is awake and trying to get them to calm down. It doesn’t work, and when the noise gets too much for Lance, he snaps. He’s never snapped at his crew out of nowhere, until today. 

“Enough!” Lance yells, so loud it reaches from bow to aft. The crew all silence in shock at Lance’s outburst. Even Hunk is shocked. Lance grits his teeth. “All of you! Prepare the ship to sail, if someone is not on the ship by noon we leave without them. I don’t want to be anywhere near the Altean capital by sundown.”

No one replies.

“Now!” Lance yells, and then he turns to go to his room. 

“Lance is everything-” Hunk starts to ask. Lance rounds on him in anger. He doesn’t want to hear the rest of that question, not when he’s still so full of rage and fear and regret and tiredness. 

“No, everything's not alright! You wanna know why?” Lance demands. “Because you lot are not _listening to orders!”_ His crew flinch away from him and he reigns in his anger, running a hand through his hair and straightening his favorite coat. Lance takes a breath to calm himself, but the icy anger in his heart only melts a little. He settles his face into a neutral expression, and makes sure his voice remains steady and monotone. 

“Prepare to sail.” Lance says evenly, and then he walks away to his quarters, silence at his back. When he slams his door shut, the sound echoes across the ship. Lance locks his door, and slides down the wall. He hasn’t thought about his family in so long, and being a pirate made him happy. Made him forget. Made him almost forget.

He’s a Prince and he wishes with his entire being he could forget.

How horrible a person must Lance be to want to forget about an entire half of his own family? One who never did anything to him. He had no particular reason for running away, he just knew that life as a prince was not for him. That he didn't deserve to be a prince. Lance sighs to himself, and then shakes his head. 

No more regretting the past, only looking towards the future. 

Lance paces his room as he tries to figure out where to go from here, how he's supposed to take care of this matter for the princess. He isn't sure what she expects him to do. He’s never even been that far into the mountains, let alone knowing it well enough to navigate without a guide. Could he wing it? Mountains aren’t his forte, they aren’t the sea. He can navigate himself across the sea blindfolded just by listening to the wind (yes, that may be an exaggeration, but the sentiment is there). Mountains though? Forests? No way. 

He _probably_ could navigate the desert since it’s the same as navigating the sea, by reading the stars, but he’s not confident enough to try it. 

Lance paces his room for hours, his mind running around in circles. How is he supposed to do this anyways? What about his ship? His crew? He surely can’t bring them along. The ship will be impossible to manage, and the crew would just draw way too much attention. Besides, they're pirates, sailors. More than half of them have spent their entire lives on the sea, and being on land for too long makes them antsy. 

Lance leaves his room just before noon, having come up with nothing. How un-Captainly of him, to be so unsure of what he wants to do next. 

Lance steps on deck, and the crowd of his crew immediately silences. Lance narrows his eyes and stalks forward, determined to find out what all the commotion is about. The crowd splits before him, as if he has the plague, opening up to show him Rolo, and surprisingly hanging off of his arm, Nyma. They’re holding hands. 

“Might I ask.” Lance says evenly. “Why has this woman stepped foot on my ship without my permission?" Lance asks Rolo, but it's Nyma who replies. She scoffs at him, which does kind of irk him but he's trying to stay nice for the time being. 

"You know my name Lance, do not pretend as if I'm not standing before you." She says, sticking her nose up in the air and looking down it at Lance. She must really be trying to piss him off then. "And for your information, Rolo and I are set to be married, and I won't let you disappear with him for weeks at a time. I will be coming with you on your journeys." 

The entire crew, including Rolo, step away at that. Nyma looks at Rolo, her apparent husband to be, with confusion. Lance looks at him in confusion too. Didn’t they meet just the other night? Now marriage? Rolo? The same guy who was banned at three different ports- not taverns, ports- because he caused too much trouble by running around with every woman he could find?

Nyma _must_ be up to something, and he can’t let her ruin his best thief. 

"Is that so?" Lance says, adopting a sort of humor in his tone. There's a few nervous chuckles from the crew, but no one takes it further. "Well, this is _my_ ship, and anyone who chooses to set sail on _my_ ship has to undergo the trials. Think you can handle that sweetheart?"

Nyma looks vaguely scared beneath all that haughtiness. _Good._ "What trials?"

Lance smiles wickedly, already knowing, as if whispered in his ear, exactly what trials Nyma needs to endure. “Yours.” Lance turns away to assess his crew. “Anyone missing?” He gets a handful of head shakes. “Good, we sail.”

Hunk takes over from there, no questions but a lot of worried looks. He starts commanding the crew like a natural, and the crewman scurry away to their posts. Perhaps when Lance departs for his new little mission the princess blackmailed him into, he’ll hand his ship over to Hunk. Besides, it’s about time he finds something new to pursue. Maybe he’ll be a blacksmith.

No way, too boring. Whatever, he’ll figure that out when he comes to it.

Lance turns back to Nyma and Rolo, the latter of which is currently using his new soon to be wife as a shield by hiding slightly behind her. Good, he should be scared, because if he’s pulling a fast one over on Lance with Nyma, that kid is going to be shark bait.

"So," Lance says evenly. "We start the trials when Altea is no longer in our sight line. Until then, you two can wait for me by the main mast."

Lance walks away, up to the quarterdeck so he can take the wheel and steer the way out of port. Hunk moves to stand beside him, watching as Rolo and Nyma take a seat by the main mast. They can't see Nyma's expression since she's turned away from Lance, but they can see Rolo's. And Rolo looks love struck. 

_Hmmm._

"Why do you think they want to get hitched so suddenly?" Hunk asks. Lance blinks in shock at the random question and then rolls his eyes.

"Didn't peg you for a gossip Hunk." Lance says. That’s a total lie, Hunk is the biggest gossip on the ship. And if he’s not the one gossiping, then he’s the one making the gossip happen. I.e. always following Lance around and never letting him out of his sight. Hunk huffs at him as Lance turns the wheel slightly to the right to avoid another ship. 

"It was an ice breaker. Not gossip."

"Sounds like gossip to me." Lance teases. Hunk sighs. 

"Are we not going to talk about this morning? Or last night?" Hunk asks, and Lance studiously ignores him. "Lance, we tell each other everything. You can tell me what made you so upset this morning that you blew up on the crew like you did."

"It's nothing Hunk." Lance lies, apparently badly when he sees the look Hunk is giving him. "I think she's pregnant." That throws Hunk off.

"Do what now? Who?" Hunk demands in a yelled whisper. Lance rolls his eyes with a smirk, what a gossip.

"Nyma. I think she's pregnant, and it's Rolo's. That's why they want to get hitched." Lance says. Hunk visibly deflates beside him, running a hand down his face. 

"We have to talk about this Lance, you can't avoid what's bothering you forever." Hunk says. Lance highly doubts that sentiment is true, he's avoided it for years now, he can avoid it a while longer. "Lance please, I thought we were best friends?"

"We are Hunk, I just don't have anything to talk about is all." Lance says. They continue this back and forth argument for another few minutes, and then Lance gets fed up. With a huff Lance let’s go of the wheel, making Hunk panic and grab it right after. 

"Take the wheel, it's time for the trials." Lance says, cutting Hunk off from saying another thing about Lance's attitude this morning. He stalks down the steps of the quarter deck at a fast pace, ignoring Hunk's groan of frustration. Lance can usually be pretty easy to crack open, but this is a sore subject, one he doesn't want to unload right now. 

Or ever, preferably.

"Hey!" Lance yells as he steps off the stairs. He grabs the attention of everyone on the top deck, and they know it's time for the trials. Nyma and Rolo stand from the crates they were sitting on to face him. Nyma crosses her arms defiantly, while Rolo looks green in the cheeks. Lance steps past them, and pops open a crate that they were sitting on, and grabbing a fruit to chow on. He turns back to the happy couple.

Lance eyes Nyma, looking at her like he hasn't done in a while. Her hair is a pale blonde, tied up on her head in an elegant twist. Her eyes are almost purple in color, and her features are delicate. She's wearing a day dress, covering every inch of her skin except her hands and her face. It almost looks like the dress Allura likes to wear, but with more neutral colors, paired with a heavy blue trim, neutral from her waist down and her chest up. 

Lance takes a bite of the juicy fruit he grabbed, a trail of it running down his chin. Using his juice covered and fruit filled hand he points at Nyma and says, "Strip."

"Excuse me?" Nyma says after a moment of silence. Lance stands up from his leaned back position on the crate and takes another small bite. 

"You heard me right. Strip. Take off your dress." Lance demands, eyeing her sharply. He almost doesn't want to do this trial, but something inside of him knows he must, and knows that he will learn why when the time is right. It's weird, how he always knows exactly where to hit his new recruits the hardest in their trials. It just comes to him like a voice whispering it in the back of his head. He never understands how he knows, but he just does. 

And he knows that this is necessary to make sure she's right for the ship, and right for Rolo as well. 

"I don't understand." Nyma says. "Why should I take off my dress?"

"Because I say so. You want a place on this ship so badly? Then you listen to me. Strip, or I will do so forcefully." Lance threatens, but he keeps his expression flat and takes another bite from his fruit. Another trail of juice runs down his chin, and Lance wipes it away with his knuckles. 

"Whatever." Nyma says, rolling her eyes. "It isn't like I'm ashamed of my body." Nyma strips like she's giving a show, earning a plethora of wolf calls from the gathering crew. Rolo stands off to the side with a grimace. She stands proudly before Lance and the crew, even going so far as to pose. 

"Why are you making her do this?" Pidge asks, having appeared out of nowhere behind him. Lance tilts his head back, finding her not only behind him but leaning over him using a rope from the rigging to hold her up. Wow, she must really be over her fear of heights now. She’s like a ninja and a monkey combined. A ninkey. A monja. Minja? Nonkey? Nah, he prefers minja. 

What was her question again? Oh yeah.

"This is her trial. She must pass, or she must leave. That is the way of my ship." Lance explains. He walks away from Pidge and into the crowd, wolf whistling and cat calling at Nyma as she shows off her body. Lance begins to slow clap, which shuts the crew up. 

“Very impressive show you put on Nyma. Boys, do me a favor and tie her to the center mast.” Lance commands. He watches as Nyma’s expression turns from smug, to shocked, and then angry as she’s dragged kicking and screaming and cursing Lance’s name to the center mast. She’s tied up in record time, and Lance stalks forward to look at Nyma. She hisses at him when he gets too close. 

“You are to stay here until you pass your first trial.” Lance says. He turns to walk away and runs face first into Rolo. Rolo backs away hastily and nervously. 

“Captain, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, isn’t this a little-” Rolo cuts himself off, but Lance finishes it for him.

“Cruel? Are you saying your trials weren’t cruel to you? That I made a mistake in letting you on my ship to begin with?” Lance asks. Rolo backpedals. 

“No sir, I’m not saying that.” 

“Then get out of my way Rolo.” Lance snaps. He has no patience to deal with Rolo actually _worrying_ about someone like a normal human being. Lance addresses his crew as he walks away. “You can look, boys, and Pidge, but lay a hand on her and I’ll be throwing you overboard in her place!” 

Lance walks down to the kitchens with Nyma screaming profanities as he does. Lance goes about his day as normal, every once in a while stopping to check on Nyma, see if she has passed the trial or not. And every time he does, she curses at him and he walks away. He does this a few times, and every time he checks on her, the cursing becomes much less heated. And then Lance decides to check on her one last time as the sun goes down. 

Nyma has slid down the mast to sit on the heels of her feet, and her luscious blonde hair is matted and limp from sweating all day in the sun. Lance isn’t a monster of course, he’s instructed Cook to give her water every hour on the hour, but she has been prohibited from leaving the mast. Lance walks up to her, giving her one last shot to pass the trial. 

“Hello Nyma, how are you faring?” Lance asks, just like he did every other time he’s checked on her. This time is different, she doesn’t start cursing at him or demanding to be set free.

“I am as good as I can be, Captain.” Nyma whispers, almost too low to hear. That’s new, her referring to him as Captain that way. Without that sultry tone she usually uses. Now she just sounds tired. When she raises her head, there are tear tracks on her face. Lance crouches down in front of her with his hands folded on his knees. 

“You’ve been crying. Has someone touched you?” Lance asks, in genuine worry. Nyma shakes her head no. “Well, how would you say this experience has been?”

“Mortifying. Tiring.” Nyma says. “Will I be stuck here all night Captain?” 

Lance looks at her curiously. She seems to be asking more for herself, than to appease him, and calling him Captain the way she does doesn’t seem like she’s trying to seduce him, she’s done it that way before. She just sounds like she’s using his title as she would his name. Not as if she had been told what to do, which wouldn’t work anyways, since Lance is the only one who ever knows what exactly the trials need for the person to pass. Lance purses his lips in thought. 

“No, I believe we can move on to trial two.” Lance says. Nyma’s head snaps up and she has never looked so happy. Then her face falls into apprehension.

“Really?” Nyma asks, almost as if she thinks he’s going to trick her. Lance nods, and stands up from his crouched position. Lance draws his sword and moves behind her and in two quick and precise swipes, the ropes fall from Nyma’s wrists. Lance steps around the mast to the dress she had worn, and hands it to her. Nyma stands slowly and accepts her dress with shaking hands. 

“Go get some water, some food, and a bath. Come to me when you are ready for your next trial. I will be sitting right there,” Lance says pointing at the crates around the main mast. “And I will not move from that spot until you come to me.”

Nyma starts walking away on shaky legs, and she turns to look at him over her shoulder. “Thank you Captain.” 

Nyma walks away, the movement drawing the attention of the crew members who work on the top deck. Lance does exactly as he said he would, and plops himself on the crates. He makes himself comfortable, as he expects to be waiting all night. He doses off soon, and his dreams are filled with fields of wild juniberry flowers, with a warm sun overhead. It’s a comforting dream.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Nyma says, waking him up from the fields of flowers to look up into a night sky of shining stars. Lance sits up with a stretch and rubs one eye, yawning as he looks around. The sun is just barely breaching the horizon and his crew are almost all asleep except for the night crew.

“It’s barely dawn.” Lance says. Nyma looks towards the pinking sky before looking back to Lance. 

“Should I come back later or,” Nyma says, trailing off. Lance waves her off with a yawn, and hops off the crates. 

“No, you stay here. I’ll go wake the crew.” Lance says. This next trial requires everyone on the ship. Lance strides towards the quarterdeck, which lies in the opposite direction of the berth where all the crew sleeps. 

“Uh, isn’t the crew that way?” Nyma says. Lance looks back to her with a smirk as he reaches the door to his cabin, and he reaches up to a cord dangling above him. Lance smiles with glee as he yanks it down, as hard as he can. There’s a loud screeching noise, muffled from the door to the berth, and then there is only a long series of thuds and rushing footsteps. Like a broken damn, his crew all file out, swords, guns and magic at the ready for battle. 

Lance sounded the raid siren. And the result is _glorious._

His bleary eyed crew rushes to both sides of the ship, expecting to be met with enemy combatants. Instead, they get nothing but silent seas, and like puppets on a string they all turn to Lance with glares. Lance leans against the side wall of the staircase to the quarterdeck, smirking as his crew glare at him. 

“Morning you bunch of miscreants!” Lance yells. Hunk pushes his way to the front of the crowd, yawning.

“Must you wake us so early? The sun isn’t even awake at this hour!” Hunk whines. Lance laughs at his misery. 

“Come on, it’s time we find out if Nyma is worthy for the crew!” Lance says. The crew are silent, sharing looks of brief confusion before giving a raucous cheer. Rolo swings down from the crow’s nest on a rope, but Lance ignores him. 

He stalks to Nyma, who looks freshened up and shocked at the rush of people who just flooded onto the top deck. As he walks, he draws his sword, and drags the tip along the wood, the sound echoing over the ocean water. Nyma only turns to look at him when Lance is within swinging range, and she flinches back as Lance brings his sword up to her neck. 

“On your knees.” Lance says, mentally preparing himself for the next trial. This won’t be pleasant for either of them.

“Do what?” Nyma asks. Her questioning him will be a nuisance if she makes it through this trial a winner. Lance edges the blade harder against her neck, making her hiss as her skin is slightly cut.

“On your knees.” Lance repeats, tone more deadly than he has ever been. Nyma swallows, and hikes up her dress to kneel before him. Lance holds his hand out for hers, and she hesitantly grabs it in confusion. Lance takes her hand and yanks her forward, and unsuspecting, Nyma falls forward onto Lance’s legs. Her head smacks into his thigh, and she goes to lean backwards, but with her hand captured in Lance’s she can’t go anywhere. 

“What are you doing!?” Nyma screeches, trying and failing to pull away from him. 

“Come now Nyma. You’ve done this before.” Lance taunts. “All you gotta do is service me, here, now, with your mouth and I’ll let you stay on my ship, and marry my crewman.”

“You can’t be serious.” Nyma smiles nervously, leaning away as much as she can. “Lance, you’re joking right?”

Lance moves his sword from where it had sat gently on her shoulder to beneath her chin. He uses the point of the sword to tilt her head up and up and up until her slender neck is stretched out as far as can be. When she swallows, Lance, and everyone standing close enough, can see the contraction and release of her throat, every movement of the muscle defined as it moves. 

“I am not Lance, to you. I am your captain, and your captain demands a service.” Lance says evenly. 

“Captain what are you doing!?” Rolo yells. Lance rolls his eyes at the interruption. “She’s my fiance, don’t do this!”

Lance sighs. “Grab him and shut him up.” Lance says, to no one in particular, and Rolo is dragged back and muzzled. “Now sweetheart. You want him? Please me.” Lance says, pointing his sword at Rolo and releasing her chin. He brings the sword back down to her face, gently running the flat side down her cheek. She whimpers, but her lips are sealed. 

“Otherwise, you’re feeding the fishes today.” Lance finishes off. Nyma closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and moves her free hand up to Lance’s pants waistband. Her fingers hover over it, and Lance releases her other hand to let her do as she wills. He watches in anticipation as her hands hover at the waistband, not even an inch away from touching him. 

Then suddenly, Nyma jumps to her feet and scrambles back, and she glares at Lance. 

“I know you don’t believe me, but I love Rolo, and I will not betray him like that. I would rather die.” Nyma spits the words out, and she straightens to her full height, once again looking down her nose at him, but she trembles in her voice. Lance raises an eyebrow, and steps forward once, before he is interrupted. Again. 

“Lance!” Rolo yells, yanking his head from side to side to try and avoid the hands trying to shut him back up. “Don’t hurt her or I swear to the heavens-” Rolo is silenced again, but his eyes are wide and angry. Lance looks back to Nyma and it looks as if her resolve has strengthened, and Lance feels his eye twitch. 

“Fine.” Lance says, striding forward, grabbing Nyma by the wrist even as she tries to back away from him. “You want death so badly, then you shall have it.” 

Lance drags her to the side of the ship, and throws her against the railing. She crashes into the wood, and then turns around to face Lance, hair wild and tangled above her head like a ray of light. She bares her teeth at him. 

“You have a choice, courtesy of our many nights spent together. You can die with dignity, and jump. Or you can die by my hand, and be pushed. Your choice.” Lance says. Nyma swallows, not so prominently now that her throat isn’t on display. She glances behind her and below, down at the icy cold, raging waters. 

Nyma turns to him with a look of stone. 

“You may not understand it, I hardly do, but I love Rolo. And I would sooner die than betray him.” Nyma says, enforcing her earlier statement. “That man makes my heart beat wild, and any pain I feel, it goes numb when he just holds my hand. He doesn’t treat me like a whore, or a warm body to warm his bed for a few coins. I don’t want his money, or a place on this ship, I just want him. And even the waters below could not soothe that fire inside of me.”

And with that she jumps, to the sound of Rolo’s muffled scream.

Lance cackles in delight, and then he forces his magic outwards, and into the sea below. Like he did with Pidge when she jumped, Lance surges the water upwards, engulfing her gently, and within seconds he spills her back onto his ship. Sopping wet, and coughing up the water that made it past her lips, Nyma looks like a drowned rat. 

Lance stalks towards her as she hacks and coughs, and he grabs her by the arms. With a gentle pull, he stands her up and holds her by the shoulders. 

“Welcome to the crew!” Lance says smiling brightly. There’s a single mutter from his watching crew, which spurns on a few more. All in good fun at least. 

“Nothing like a recruit’s trials to cheer up the Captain.”

“That’s because he gets to be dramatic.”

“I feel like he just likes terrifying us.”

Lance rolls his eyes, but they aren’t wrong. He’s feeling much better since this morning, and since last night. 

“I don’t understand.” Nyma says. Lance is getting the feeling that the only ones who will ever straight up question his methods are the women who board his ship. “Why did you do all that?”

“They are called trials for a reason sweetheart.” Lance replies. “I had to test you, to make sure you were not only right for my crew, but right for my crewman as well.”

“Test what?” Nyma asks.

“The first trial was of humility. I wanted to see if you could let go of your pride, and you did. The second trial was of courage. You came to me before sunrise, facing your own apprehensions to prove yourself.” Lance says. 

“More like the Captain got lazy.” Someone snickers, prompting a few more. 

“Ey! You want to feed the fish instead?” Lance calls out. The snickers quiet but don’t go away. Lance turns back to Nyma. 

“I actually had to do four trials for you, because _someone_ kept interrupting!” Lance calls out, looking pointedly at an embarrassed Rolo. There’s a chorus of childish ‘ooo you got in trouble’. “They were both to test the same thing. Loyalty. But not to me, to Rolo. If you had laid a hand on me to do as demanded, you would have failed. But because that test was interrupted, you had a choice.”

“If you jumped, you passed, if I pushed you, well.” Lance smirks. “The fish are hungry.”

Nyma stares at him hard for a second, and then giggles. “You’re a cruel one Lance.”

Lance smiles at her. “I can be. You do realize, you _will_ have to actually do as I say from now on? And you can’t call me Lance off the ship anymore, bad for the image and all.”

“I know, and I will. You’re allowing me to explore the world with the man I fell in love with.” Nyma says, and she glances behind her at Rolo, who hugs her from behind. His shoulders hunch in relief that she’s alright, despite her very soggy clothes. About this time, Hunk breaks up the crowd of onlookers and everyone goes either to their posts or back to bed. Nyma looks at him again with a soft smile. “I will follow you to the ends of the Earth so long as Rolo is beside me.” 

“Well, then, my first order of business is to get you some decent clothing when we stop at port. We’ll get you some better quality ones when we reach Altea again, but for now just plain pants and a peasant shirt and boots will work. Until then, you can steal from your fiance’s wardrobe.” Lance teases. “You will also join me and Pidge to learn how to fight. Pidge is not to leave my side, but you have your fiance, so when I am not training you, he will be your trainer and your guardian until the day I deem you battle ready.”

Nyma nods dutifully. “I will do whatever is needed to be done to be with my Rolo, Captain.” Nyma vows as Rolo kisses her on the forehead. Lance smiles at her with fondness. They’ve shared a bed quite a few times, but Lance has never seen her as more than a fling. To see her so happy makes him happy. They both knew it wasn’t meant to be long ago, when they couldn’t go out to eat without awkward silences. Their only chemistry was sex, and Lance is more than happy to let that go if she’s this happy. 

“I’m happy for you Nyma.” Lance says, and he leans forward to kiss her on the forehead as well, a sort of last goodbye. Then he turns his eyes to Rolo. “And if you mess this up, trust me. You will not be the crewmember I keep aboard.” It’s only teasing but Rolo nods anyways. 

“Right well, Rolo, escort her around the ship, show her the ropes, both figuratively and literally, and then you two can get settled in your new cabin.” Lance says flippantly. 

“New cabin?” Rolo asks. Lance peers over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow as he starts to walk away. 

“You two are a newly engaged couple. I will not torment my crew with your nightly activities. Talk to Cook when she’s settled and he will show you where to go.” Lance says, and he walks to his room to get some decent sleep before he takes over from Hunk.


	11. Ancient Legend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance reveals a little of his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to have my computer charger back, so now I can write. I hope you guys are staying safe in this quarantine madness. In the meantime, enjoy my stories!

The trip to the next port, the first stop they’ll make in their eight week journey, takes three weeks, so his crew don’t start getting too sick of sailing, but they don’t spend too much time docked between each port. He’ll only be having them dock twice before their final destination where he departs from his ship. During those three weeks Lance trains Pidge and Nyma all day everyday, and then steers the ship at night since Hunk takes over the day. He’s sleep deprived, but he still does his job to the best of his ability, despite only running on a few hours of sleep. He sneaks in those hours when Hunk takes over the wheel but before the girls wake up. 

For the first week, the training is a novelty to the crew. 

Most of his crewmen were already decent with some sort of weapon by the time Lance caught a hold of them, but these two girls are learning from scratch. Lance starts them both off with weaponless fighting, and then daggers, since they’re lightweight, and the daggers match well with the girls’ small frames. Then once they learn a few more moves with the daggers, they move on to swords. Once they learn a little of the swords, Lance lets Nyma have target practice with Rolo while Lance trains Pidge with her exotic weapon that nearly killed his best informant. 

And then, some of the crew as well. 

The weapon Pidge chose isn’t Lance’s forte so they both stumble with it for a while, but then once Lance gets the hang of it, he shows Pidge how best to use it with her frame. Like a grappling hook, Lance shows Pidge that she can whip herself through the air using the bladed end as her anchor. Then she practices her aim with the weird weapon, which takes forever. Lance cringes every time Pidge misses, wanting nothing more than to keep correcting her, but she has to learn her own aim eventually.

Then after Nyma returns, rinse and repeat. Over and over again he teaches them little bits at a time. And at the end of the day, just before the sun goes down, Lance spars with them both to test their skill. The sparring is the only thing the crew members actively watch after the first week. Sometimes, Lance will take both of them on to teach them teamwork, or pit them against each other or other crewmates to teach them how to detect weaknesses and strengths in their opponents.

Nyma still moves her eyes everytime she prepares to attack. 

Pidge still hesitates.

He spars with them with each weapon, and then Pidge tries to take him down with her own exotic weapon. She fails every time, and every time she almost kills someone on board the ship. The crew has learned to stay in a wide range, out of the weapon’s reach. 

All in all they get better and better, and their skin gets both toned and tanned (or rather, burned) with each passing day.

They pull up to the port in the middle of the session at the end of the third week. Lance keeps showing the girls a few more techniques with the sword, the weapon they’re on right now, even as he gives out commands to his crew, who watch in wait.

“Johnny, Nigel and Thomas, you three are on food supply. Pidge move your right foot forward when you swing like that or you’ll be caught off balance. Charles, William and Francis, you three on water and alcohol. If you get anything overly expensive, I will not hesitate to throw you off my ship. Nyma stop getting distracted.” Lance calls out, forming the girls’ bodies while they train to make them better. 

“Lawrence, James and Andrew, use your magic to bream the ship, I want it free of barnacles and seaweed. And I want it done by the time we undock.” Lance says. He brings Pidge’s arm into her body to give her more control of the sword when she blocks. He’s having them do a slow mock spar against each other while Lance circles them and fixes their mistakes. “Once all of that is done, report back to me. I have a few more tasks that need completing before you guys can tear up the town.”

His crew disperse at his silent dismissal. 

“Captain,” Nyma huffs, grunting as she parries Pidge’s slow downward swing. Both of them are trembling, but staring each other down in determination. Lance figured out that when he makes it a challenge, to see who bows out first, the two of them keep going no matter what. They both have something to prove, or at least believe it in their own minds since Lance sees nothing they need to prove themselves for. They both passed his trials, that’s all that he requires them to show him who they really are. Doing a bootcamp training like this with the amount of determination in their eyes is just a point to Lance’s good judgement of character. 

Not to brag of course.

“Yes Nyma?” Lance asks a minute later. Nyma huffs out a few times as she goes on the defensive in the mock spar. 

“I don’t think I can,” Nyma grunts as Pidge takes the offensive stance Lance taught her and swings slow. Lance uses his foot to knock Pidge’s grounded foot back to give her more stability. “Keep going.”

Taking Nyma’s exhaustion as a weakness, Pidge presses forward. Lance sees it happen moments before it does in reality, and he draws his sword just in time. He doesn’t know how he knew, but Nyma wasn’t going to lift her sword fast enough to block the overhead swing Pidge made. And Pidge wasn’t strong enough or skilled enough, also bogged down with her exhaustion, to stop her strike before it was too late, which would have caused Nyma to be injured pretty badly. So Lance does it for her, and deflects the sword just in time. 

All of them freeze as Pidge’s sword slips from her hands and flies a few feet away to land with a loud clang. No one moves for a second, and then Lance slowly sheaths his sword and goes to pick up Pidge’s. Maybe he’s working them too hard.

“Take a break you two. Do your cooldown stretches and then go get some water and food from Cook, don’t come back to me until you two can lift a sword above your head without trembling.” Lance says. 

They both sigh in relief and plop on the ground to do cool down stretches. Normally Lance would lead them in the stretches, but he needs to go check on their route and make sure they’re on course. He hasn’t disclosed any information about their destination to his crew, other than where and when. Lance opens the door to his quarters and strips off his coat, throwing it onto his bed as he steps around his desk. He uncovers his map, the one marked with sightings of the Dragon’s Fire. 

Lance scowls down at it as he remembers his forced promise to the princess. 

Lance leans back and slumps into his chair, running his hands down his face. How did this all get so messy? One minute he’s a renowned pirate, infamous for his marksmanship with his special spell only _Lance_ can use. The Ice Rifle. A sniper rifle made purely of ice, with ice bullets, and an ice scope too. The spell takes a lot of magic, so even Lance uses it rarely. 

The next minute, Lance is a privateer, a pirate who has signed a contract with a kingdom to only attack enemy ships. And the next minute after that? He’s being blackmailed by the Princess General. Guess when she takes command of Altea’s armies, she will be very good at the job. Romelle wasn’t always being preened for the position as General, at one point she had an older brother who would take the position. But he went missing when Romelle was young, and now she’s trying harder than ever to be ready for the mantle she will be given when her cousin takes the crown. 

Lance sighs, and then gets up and locks the door to his room. 

He goes to his bed, and kneels beside it so he can reach beneath. It’s pushed up against the wall, so he has to really reach, but Lance gets a hold and pulls out the wooden box he’s never been willing to be rid of. He hasn’t touched it in over a year, so it’s dusty on top. Lance wipes away the dust with a hand, the length of the box as long as his body.

With a sigh he unlatches the lock, and then pulls open the lid to the box. Inside on top to conceal the items it holds is a long black cloak. Lance wore this cloak the day he fled, the day he ran from his place as a prince. He pulls it out and sets aside, revealing the sparkling gems and jewels of his home country. Dead center is the crown he was given a mere year before he ran, decorated in deep blue gems, a simple circlet that is supposed to be replaced by the crown of the king at his coronation. Beside it is a pair of daggers with blue colored gems on the handle, and there are engravings on each of the blades, a single saying split in three, the last of the saying engraved on the blade of the matching sword. 

_Beneath the crown we command…._

_…..Behind the dagger we defend….._

Lance sets the twin daggers and the crown to the side, gently laying them on top of the folded cloak. The sword glitters blue at him, sapphires set in a swirling design of the manticore, his home country’s beast of legend on the banner, which kind of looks like a lion on the banners. Across the sea, all the countries adopt a beast of legend on their banner. Lance unsheathes the sword slowly, watching as the slightly chipped blade reflects light into Lance’s eyes. 

He shifts the blade, and the glare leaves nothing behind but the last of the saying. 

_…. Before the sword we sacrifice._

Lance swallows and sheathes the sword, setting it aside like he did the crown and daggers and cloak. There is a small blanket Lance once used as a baby, before he was taken to the palace to be a Prince, and Lance smiles as it depicts a story in images. 

The story is an old fairy tale from home, of a common woman being sunk into the ocean as a sacrifice to the Great Serpent, with hands bound and feet bound as well. It shows the woman sinking into the deep depths, long tendrils of silver curls sweeping up towards the surface even as her body sinks. There is a single panel that closes up on her face, and she doesn’t look down in fear, but up in sorrow. 

Her features are pale and delicate and Lance has always found it strange how familiar the woman looks. 

The next panel is the woman hitting her knees on the bottom of the sea, and then a short series of panels as she smiles boldly, if not a little sorrowful, where the Great Serpent slowly surrounds her. Lance turns the blanket to the other side as the story continues. The Great Serpent surges forward to devour her, but after a single close up of the smile on the woman’s face, the serpent rears back. The panels don’t tell of the supposed conversation, but Lance remembers the story vividly. 

_Why do you smile when you are being sacrificed to me?_ The serpent had asked. 

_My people are dying, I smile because the sacrifice is all that I could do to help._ The woman had responded. 

_Did they not throw you away?_ The serpent asks. 

_They are misled._ The woman explains. 

_Why smile for ones who do not cry for you?_ The serpent asks. 

_Because they starve, and sacrifice, and they deserve to live._ The woman says. The conversation goes on as the woman explains that crops are dying, and her people sacrifice to appease the gods. 

The next panel is of the Great Serpent surging up through the water, and as he breaks the surface, he spills rain on the crops, making them grow instantly. The story ends with the woman and the serpent becoming companions, and once a year the serpent waters the crops with his magical water, and the harvest grows strong. In the last two panels, the woman lies in the ground, and so consumed with grief the Serpent hides away, and the crops suffer once more. 

Legend has it that one day the Serpent will rise again, but only as a favor to his companion, and the silver haired woman will return to ease the serpent's grief. 

Lance has always loved that story, though he doesn’t know why. It’s famous of course, or at least back where he’s from it is. It has children’s books, songs, an ancient ballad that is almost forgotten. He named his ship after the serpent, and the lion is for strength, something his mother used to call him. _My lion cub._ Lance refolds the blanket and sets it aside, looking down at the last of the items in the box. 

It’s only a few memoirs of his family, a picture of him and his brothers and sisters and mother, a single outfit made for a prince, a wooden toy sword, and the last thing he ever received from his mother. A little journal bound in leather, with an engraving of a lion. It was his mother’s journal when she was young, and half of the journal is unwritten in. She wanted him to write in it about his adventures and sorrows, and that one day, he will give it back to her. 

Lance doesn’t know if he will ever see her again, but he writes in the journal every time something major happens. 

Lance pulls out the journal, then puts everything back the same way it was before he removed them. He runs his thumb over the sapphires of his circlet, and that’s that. He shuts it all away and pushes it back beneath his bed. The only thing he keeps out is the journal and he grabs a pen.

Lance poises the pen to write and hesitates, before writing slowly and clearly.

_Dear mother…._


	12. Journey Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance, Hunk and Pidge set out on the mission the princess gave Lance.

The ship arrives in the last port sooner than Lance would have hoped. 

It’s been a hard seven weeks, the wind having been on his side and speeding along the journey by almost a week. He wishes the wind would have been against them instead. He’s had a hell of a time just dodging the questions and the looks he gets. Now the ship will be docked for who knows how long. Unless someone can take over his captainship.

His crew isn’t going to be happy about that. 

Lance finishes stuffing his travel pack with every item he could possibly need while traversing through the deadly mountain range. His pack is full to bursting, and Lance sighs as he grabs another pack from the closet. He doesn’t know what he will encounter in the mountains, he needs to be prepared for any and everything. 

Lance finishes the second pack, and is about to close it when he spies the journal and pen sitting mockingly on his desk. He bites his lip in debate, and then swipes it off the desk and shoves it down, deep, into the bottom of the second pack before he changes his mind. He leaves them both there on his bed, and leaves the room, head held high to belay the creeping apprehension in his throat. 

The crew are up and about already, despite it being early in the morning. They stand talking in groups, whispering, wondering. All eyes turn to him when he steps up the short set of stairs, stepping onto the top deck with a hand closed tightly over his sword. He’s armed to the teeth, and his crew see that and silence. 

A sword on his left hip, another on his right, a pair of daggers on each side of his belt buckle. He’s got two pistols holstered on his sides, beneath where his arms lay, and concealed by the non assuming coat of brown leather. His boots each have a dagger in them as well. On his back is a bow and a quiver of arrows. Armed to the teeth and maybe to the bones as well. 

“Captain, what is going on lately?” Rolo says, walking forward from the clusters of people, arm in arm with Nyma. She has a long katana strapped to her waist, her weapon of choice, which they picked up in their second stop three weeks ago. Hopefully Lance trained her well, she might need it while he is gone, but he hopes to the heavens that she doesn’t. “And why are you so heavily armed?” 

Lance swallows, despite his dry mouth, and then speaks loud enough to address all of his crew. 

“I have a task ahead of me, one that is dangerous and secret, and I have spent the past couple of weeks trying to prepare. I know docking so often has had all of you confused and anxious, but it was necessary. I must leave the ship.” Lance says, and his crew reels back in surprise. _The captain hardly ever leaves the ship,_ they whisper. “I don’t know when, or if, I will return. So as of this moment I am no longer your captain.”

“Captain you can’t be serious?” Someone calls out. There’s shouted agreements and Lance raises his hand to silence the crowd. They silence as if their very voices were stolen. 

“My appointment to Captain is hardly a choice at all.” Lance says. He turns around, knowing without knowing that Hunk is standing behind him on the quarter deck stairs, and he is confirmed right when he sees the horror in Hunk’s eyes. “Hunk, congratulations, you have your own ship now.” 

“Lance I’m not going to be the captain of your ship, and wherever you go I go!” Hunk says, getting red in the face, probably from anger. “If you must leave, you must leave, but I am leaving with you whether you like it or not.”

“Hunk,” Lance sighs. “No. You can’t follow me this time. It’s too dangerous.”

“All the more reason I _should_ go. You need me to watch your back, and there’s no point in arguing. I’m going and that’s final.” Hunk says, crossing his arms defiantly. Lance knows that when Hunk goes so far as to ‘close himself off body language wise’, or whatever, there will be no point in arguing. Lance will just have to sneak off the ship the same way he did when he went to meet with Princess Romelle. 

“I’m going too!” Pidge says, swinging down from wherever in the rigging she was hiding in. Ever since her trials she’s become much more willing, and eager, to be swinging on the ropes. A true pirate, or at least a true sailor. 

“Pidge-” Lance starts. Pidge cuts him off as she lands in front of him with teary eyes. 

“No! You promised. You said I would stay by your side until you finish teaching me. I’m not ready to let you out of that promise Lance!” Pidge yells. Lance throws his hands into the air. 

“Fine! Whatever. Rolo, you’re captain.” Lance says. 

“No can do. This is your ship, and if I wanted to be a captain I would have left by now.” Rolo says. 

“Nyma?” Lance asks. She shakes her head. “Cook?” Another no. “ _Someone_ is taking over my captain-ship! Anyone?”

The crew all share looks, and suddenly they’re forming ranks behind Pidge. They are in no way orderly and disciplined when they move to stand behind Pidge, who steps back to be in line with Nyma and Rolo. Hunk moves from behind him and stands against him as well. Who knew so many people would oppose of him giving up his leadership? Why are they so adamant about this?

“Why are you so adamant that I will be your captain and no one else?” Lance asks out loud, at a complete loss. He’s not even that good of a pirate! And here they are, standing together and united, which is rare in his hotheaded crew members, standing against _him_ when he says he’s leaving his role as leader. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rolo asks. He looks at Nyma, and they clasp hands once more with a loving look, and Nyma finishes his thoughts.

“You are our leader, and no one else can fill that position. Only you.” Nyma says. Lance sputters at her. 

“I tied you _naked_ to a _pole._ You of all people should be the first to want to get rid of me! And Pidge! I made you jump when you were afraid of heights!” Lance says, flailing his arms around. 

“And now look at me Lance.” Pidge smiles. “I have a family on this ship, and I _love_ swinging through the air, and I’m no longer weak, or afraid, or defenseless. You changed me, you changed all of us for the better. _That’s why,_ when we come back from whatever mission or task you need to take care of, this ship will still be here. And this crew will still be here. And your place as Captain will still be unfilled.”

Lance swallows down his emotions, literally, and places on his most neutral face, kind of glad he has Hunk and Pidge to accompany him on this mission. 

“So be it. Hunk, Pidge, pack up. Prepare for anything and everything, we won’t be going anywhere kind.” Lance says. He turns from his crew, and lets his face drop as he stalks back into his room. Family huh? Lance can only wonder if this crew, this family of his, will be like the family he ran away from in fear, or the one he hid away. He kind of hopes this family will be different, that he will get to keep this one. 

However, even as he wonders about it, he knows in his very soul that one day, Lance will leave this ship and never come back. It’s just a matter of when, and why.

They set off at noon, with a Pirate’s send off. There’s a party, and Lance knows it’s mostly an excuse to get drunk before the sun is low, but Lance will allow it. Lance dragged Hunk and Pidge away from the party before they got drunk too, and slipped off with his crew none the wiser. They will know when morning rises, but it was better not to attract too much attention. 

They walk straight through the town, only stopping twice to get a couple of water jugs to carry, and some food to last a week. If this mission of Romelle’s lasts longer than that, Lance brought his bow and arrows to hunt in the forests. Climbing the mountain on foot will be hard and long, but horses leave too obvious of tracks. 

They’ll get a few horses in their first village.

There’s only two villages on the path to the caves, or at least close enough to their path to be useful. The first one is a large river town, part of the major trade routes from the other shore to the one they’re traveling on now. The second is a small village, where Lance hopes to pick up some leads on whether or not these rumors of changed people are true. Then it’s off to the tunnels to figure out what the hell is going on so he can get back to sailing. 

Hunk and Pidge keep up a steady conversation, though half of it is confusing tech talk. He didn’t realize Hunk’s fascination with the new technologies coming out lately was so vast and deep. He kind of feels like a bad friend if Hunk couldn’t talk to him like he talks to Pidge. Pidge understands the lingo though, so perhaps it’s for the best. 

Besides, this gives him more time to focus on their mission, which he still has yet to disclose to Hunk and Pidge. 

They keep walking until there is nothing surrounding them but trees. Lance likes trees, he just prefers the open ocean, it’s a lot harder to be ambushed on the ocean. That’s why Lance will forever take his ship farther out than any of the giant rocks peeking out of the ocean. Kogane has hidden in those places far too many times. 

They walk all day, which is only a few hours since they got a late start. The two behind Lance don’t stop talking the entire time, ending up in more than one debate. Pidge keeps trying to drag Lance in to pick sides, but Lance ends up just choosing one of them at random. 

They don’t ask him again after the third time.

Lance silently veers off the dirt road and into the trees, and Hunk and Pidge follow. He gets the feeling they aren’t paying actual attention to where Lance is leading them. Lance goes as deep and off the path as he can before he starts losing direction, and then finds a nice little clearing to settle into for the night. Lance drops both of his packs with relief, and the thud grabs Hunk and Pidge’s attention. 

“Oh so we’re setting up for the night? Cool, we’re just in the middle of a big scary forest that we don’t know as well as the oceans.” Hunk mumbles. He sets his stuff down gentler than Lance, and Pidge follows in Lance’s example, dropping her pack to the ground hard. 

“I’m good with forests, Olkarion was full of them.” Pidge says. It’s an accidental slip of information, because she still hasn’t said a word about who she is or where she’s from and why she left. Pidge doesn’t seem to realize, but Lance and Hunk share a quiet smile. “So as much as I’m all for just roaming around and doing whatever, what’s the task we need to do?”

“Yeah, all you said was that it was dangerous and secret.” Hunk tacks on. Lance rolls out his blanket to sleep on, and throws his pack down to act as a pillow. 

“Unpack first, but make sure whatever is out while we sleep is able to be left behind, in case we need to leave in a hurry.” Lance says. He kneels at his second pack, and rifles through it, finding the big pack of dried jerky. He brings it out and grabs one to chew on while he waits for the other two to finish. In the meantime, Lance draws his sword and starts cutting down the low branches for a fire. The jerky hangs out of his mouth as Lance sets up the fire and sits down, leaning back on a tree. 

All of this he does before the both of them are finished. 

Lance idly chews on his jerky, leaning his head back on his arms. “You guys done yet?” Lance mutters out of the side of his mouth while the jerky hangs out the other side. Hunk and Pidge both take another minute to settle onto the ground. 

“Okay so what do we need to do?” Hunk asks. Lance chews at his jerky for a moment longer, debating just how much he can reveal. He trusts Hunk, and he’s practically Pidge’s mentor at this point. So surely he can tell them enough. Lance swallows the last bit of the jerky and sits up.

“Alright so here’s the deal. Princess Romelle has given me some very disturbing information about the borders of Altea and Daibazal, the mountains. She expects me to check it out. See what I can learn that her scouts are too afraid to get close enough to learn.” Lance explains.

“For one, disturbing reports of missing Alteans, Balmerans, and Olkari being changed and sent to attack Altea’s borders in the mountains. And for two, rumors of the old cave systems being used again to transport Galran soldiers.” Lance says. Pidge looks at him with calculating sharpness. 

“Changed how?” She asks. 

“Well they’re just rumors, but apparently they’re stronger, faster, and their magic is changed. Ever heard of Dark Magic?” Lance asks. Pidge and Hunk both nod, but Pidge answers him like she’s a dictionary. 

“Dark Magic, controls over shadows. Very rare, and very powerful. Also known as Shadow Magic, and Black Magic. It’s immediate and perfect opposite is Light Magic, which is just as rare, and just as powerful. Control over light. Also known as Sun Magic, and White Magic.” Pidge spouts, even sitting up and straightening her back. She slouches again when she’s done reciting what she knows. 

“Yes,” Lance says slowly. “Well anyways, the reports say that they, the stolen, have been changed so much their magic is even different, that it’s Black Magic.” 

“Okay so what are we gonna do? Eliminate them? Try to change them back to normal?” Hunk asks.

“As far as I’m concerned, this is only recon until the moment we need to take action, and only then. We are here to confirm or denounce both rumors, and report it back to Princess Romelle.” Lance says. “Then I need to speak to Allura, and then we’re getting out of here.” 

“Getting out of here and going where?” Pidge asks. 

“I don’t know. I just know I want to get out of these waters, find something new. I became a pirate for adventure and freedom. It’s time we get back to our roots.” Lance promises. He will get away from here, and basically run all over again. Romelle knows his secret, staying within Altean waters and Altean contracts would be dangerous if he wanted to keep the secret. 

“Well, we should get some sleep.” Hunk says. 

“I’ll take first watch.” Lance offers, and draws out a canister of water to play and exercise his magic. He’s kind of shocked Hunk hasn’t done so with his, since he’s been away from land a lot. And Pidge for that matter. Wait what _is_ Pidge’s magic?

“Hey Pidge.” Lance asks. She looks up from moving under the blanket to get comfortable. “What is your magic element? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.” Lance says. Pidge smiles and lays her hand flat on the ground then raises her hand into the air.

As her hand raises, so does the earth beneath her fingers, and it forms a tiny golem. The golem comes to life, and stumble-walks to Lance, and then wraps it’s tiny arms around Lance’s fingers in a hug. 

It is the cutest thing Lance has ever seen. 

“Awww,” Lance cooed, and picks the little guy up. It’s so small it fits into Lance’s palm easily, and he runs a finger over it’s head to pet it.

“He’ll stay formed for a few hours at a time, so he can keep you company while you take watch.” Pidge says, smiling widely at him. Lance spares only a glance at her and then goes back to paying the little guy some attention. “Good night Lance.” Pidge says in amusement. Lance waves her to bed, and Hunk chuckles as he does the same. 

Lance idly runs his fingers over the ground so Golem can mock attack them, like a kitten. The night flows slowly, and soon Golem curls up in Lance’s lap for a nap, and it is the sweetest thing ever.

When morning comes, after Hunk takes watch, and Golem becomes lifeless, Lance makes them pack up and eat as fast as possible. He wants to get to the base of the mountains by sundown, which will be hard to achieve but it will put them a half a day ahead of their ETA. Lance wants to get this all over with so he can go about his business. 

Traveling is hard with horses, but on foot it’s even harder, so Lance decides to veer west so he and the other two can get some horses to ride. He just didn’t want any from port, because as he said, they leave tracks. At least by having horses further on in the trip, it will be more difficult for potential pursuers to follow him. 

The walk is quiet today, and Lance has a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.


	13. Pink Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio get chased out of a tavern.

Lance, Hunk, and Pidge arrive in the town just before nightfall, when the sun is barely peeking over the horizon and the sky is a mix of darkening purples and fading pinks. For it to be so late in the day, the town is still bustling fairly well. The streets are crowded with carts and people, and squeezing past everyone is a small challenge. Unlike the upper district of Altea’s capital city, there is no gated archway to get into town. There’s no gate at all actually.

How they keep out the wild animals and the thugs and criminals is beyond Lance, but they seem to be doing pretty well without the gate. 

Lance guides his two companions to the town square so he can maybe find a place where horses are being sold. It takes him a few minutes to realize there are none in town, so he starts asking the passerby. Someone points him in the direction of a tavern. 

“Are we seriously going to go in _there?”_ Hunk asks as they stand on the other side of the street. The tavern is bustling with activity and noise, and the smell of alcohol is so strong it reaches past all the people and carts and assaults Lance’s nose without his permission. 

If it’s that bad outside, he would hate to smell the inside.

Which he will have to experience, despite his every sense warning him that it would be disastrous to go inside. Something tells him this isn’t going to be a very pleasant or cordial affair. He already sees himself being chased out by an angry mob. 

Oh well, gotta brave the tavern if he wants to survive those mountains in one piece. 

“Unfortunately, Hunk. I think we have to, just stay on your toes, and try not to cause a scene. The woman said to look for someone called Ezor.” Lance says. They cross the street, which is perilous in and of itself. Lance gets shoved and knocked around like a bouncy ball. People are far from the politeness of the capital residents. 

Perhaps being so close to the border has hardened these people, what with the skirmishes. 

Lance looks at the building surrounding the tavern, and he realizes that there _is_ battle damage to buildings. There’s a few scorch marks on one building down the way, and in the opposite direction one roof has been nearly singed to ash at the edges. The markings don’t look normal though, they don’t look like they were caused by magical fire. Besides, wouldn’t that mean the rumors of the Black Magic changes turn out to be false? 

Lance looks away from the strange marks on the buildings as he steps into the tavern. 

The tavern is as rowdy as Lance was expecting and more, the noise engulfing him as he tries to ease through the masses. It’s so much more different than the capital. In the capital, people split the crowd so that he could walk by untroubled, but here, no one cares. It’s kind of refreshing, in a very painful, elbows in the ribs and getting kicked in the shins as he squeezes through the crowd kind of way. 

Lance finds himself at the bar, and he waves down a bartender. 

No one answers his call, so he does it again. It takes him forever to get someone who will serve him, and Lance doesn’t even want a drink. He just wants to find this Ezor guy and get three horses and leave. That’s all. 

“How can I help you?” The bartender asks, a large muscle man with a thick beard. He looks like a lumberjack. 

“I’m looking for someone named Ezor?” Lance asks. “Sells horses or something?” 

“Ah! Ezor, yeah right over there in the corner. Big group, arm wrestling contest. Can’t miss it.” The bartender says, pointing at a corner but Lance’s view is blocked from the crowd. Lance turns to thank him but the bartender is already walking away to break up a bar fight. Lance shrugs and starts pushing his way through the crowd. 

Making it through is more difficult than it looks. He gets pulled into a dance by no less than three different women, and two different men. He gives each of them a twirl but walks away before he could get roped in and distracted. Every time Lance glances behind him for Hunk and Pidge, they aren’t there, so he shrugs it off and stumbles out of the thicket of the people. 

There certainly is an arm wrestling competition going on. 

A huge crowd of drunks cheer and bet as the two arm wrestling in the middle struggle to out match each other. One of them is a woman wearing the brightest of pink dresses. She looks like she should be at a royal ball with the way she’s dressed up, not in a dingy, smelly, crowded bar in the middle of nowhere. 

Her opponent?

Her opponent is a man of large build, who is red in the face as he tries to bring down the woman in pink. She on the other hand, wears a smirk the size of Daibazal and Altea combined. She casually knocks back a shot and then at the same moment that she flips the glass, so does she flip his arm on to the table. The crowd cheers. The man gets up and walks away holding his arm. 

“Anybody here named Ezor?” Lance yells out into the money exchanging drunks. 

“That,” The woman in red says, pausing to knock back another shot. “Would be me.”

Lance eyes her with a raised eyebrow, and slides into the seat across from her. “You sell horses?” 

“Of course not. Who’s asking?” Ezor says. Lance gets the feeling he should lie. 

“Leandro.” Lance says, holding his hand out for hers. She places her palm in his and he lifts her hand to kiss the back of it. She smiles at him like she knows something he doesn’t. It’s a very enticing smile. 

“That doesn’t sound like an Altean name.” Ezor says. She has hair as pink as her dress, tied up into a high ponytail and reaching down her back. Half of the hair spills over her shoulder, and then falls until it’s pooled a little at her waist. 

“Neither does Ezor, buy you a drink?” Lance asks.

“Just one?” Ezor taunts, and she snaps her fingers. A round of drinks for the two of them are brought by the lumberjack bartender, and they both pluck their drinks off the serving plate. They clink glasses and knock back their shots, flipping the shot glasses upside down on the serving plate. “So, what was this about selling horses?”

“Someone told me to find you if I wanted a ride.” Lance says. “Though if you don’t sell horses, then I guess I heard them wrong.” 

“I don’t _sell_ anything, Leandro. I just make things happen for a price.” Ezor says. She leans forward on the table, her pink hair slipping onto the table as she leans in close. “So what is it you want to happen,” She pauses to whisper in his ear. “Captain McClain.”

Lance tenses as she draws back, leaving behind a small kiss on his cheek. 

He keeps his face neutral as he says, “I just want some horses is all.” Ezor pouts at him, sticking out her cherry red bottom lip. He needs to leave soon, that bad feeling is coming back. 

“I can do you one better.” Ezor says. She stands up and glides around the table, running her fingertips over the wood as she comes to stand before him. She’s tall, taller than he would think. Her body is slim, but she must be packing some muscle if she took that guy down in an arm wrestling match. Her hair is so long a strand of it is caught around the inside of her thigh.

“Is that so,” Lance replies back, standing up himself. He sees Hunk and Pidge exit the crowd in his peripheral vision, but he never looks away from Ezor’s enchanting blue eyes. There is a golden ring around the outside of her iris, and it makes her eyes look catlike.

“Instead of some boring old horses,” Ezor says, sliding up against him. She reaches to whisper in his ear. “How about a prison cell?”

Lance barely dodges the dagger she swings at him, and he hops over the table they had used, knocking it to the floor to use as a shield. There are three resounding thuds when he hits the floor, and Lance peeks around to see three daggers embedded into the table’s underside. 

“Lance!” Hunk yells, and then charges at Ezor. Ezor spares him merely a glance before surrounding herself and Lance in a ring of flames. Hunk barely stops in time. _Great, not only was he caught off guard, he’s facing ANOTHER fire mage._ Lance uses Ezor’s brief distraction as ammo, and casts a spell on the nearby mugs of ale and liquor. He surges through the flames, essentially using the liquid to imitate using fire magic. He sends the flames surging at Ezor, and she splits the flames with her hand just in time for Lance to abandon the spell, since there was no liquid left to cast with. 

Lance surges over the table and snatches up two of Ezor’s own daggers. He throws them at her and while she dodges, Lance jumps through the flames, using his arms to protect his face. The heat surges over him, but he doesn’t stop moving when his feet touch ground again. 

“Let’s go!” Lance yells, grabbing Pidge by the hand and running. The three of them run for the door as fast as possible, shoving patrons aside to get out sooner. 

“After them!” Ezor calls out and suddenly there is a mob of people chasing after him. 

Lance races through town, eyes searching wildly for unoccupied horses. He veers left when he spots two sitting outside what looks like the entrance to a farmer’s market. Lance bee lines for the horses.

“Hunk you take one, we’ll take the other!” Lance yells over his shoulder. He catches the briefest of nods. Lance slows down enough that Pidge is running side by side to him. As they come up to the horses, Lance snatches her up by the waist and shoves her on top of the horse to the right. Hunk mounts the one to the left as Lance draws his sword and severs the ropes. Hunk rears his horse around, the animal dancing in preparation. Lance steps one foot into the stirrup when he sees Ezor through a break in the crowd. 

She runs after him, and Lance gets up on the horse in front of Pidge, who he nearly kicks in the face. 

“Hey!” Pidge yells. Lance ignores her and brings his horse around. 

“Let’s ride Hunk!” Lance yells. Hunk clicks his tongue and his horse surges forward. Lance follows after him, Pidge yelping and latching her arms around his waist. They ride out of town and back into the forest as fast as possible. 

“Well!” Hunk yells over the wind in their ears as the two of them steer the horses around the trees. “Guess it’s too late to ask if we can stay the night?” 

Lance laughs at him, and Hunk pouts as they slow down to accomodate for the thickening of the trees.


	14. Sliced Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finally catches up to McClain, and a fight ensues.

Keith rears his horse back as he comes up on the town. McClain is pretty good at covering his tracks, but Keith is a very good hunter. Keith rides through the town and heads straight for the tavern, which is made obvious by all the noise and especially the smell. He ties his horse outside the tavern and strolls inside. 

Keith eases his way slowly through the crowd to find the bartender. 

In small towns, it’s always the bartenders who know everything about the comings and goings of its patrons. Though seeing as how this one is filled to the brim with people, he’s starting to have his doubts on whether he might find something out. Keith finds the bartender easily, seeing as how he’s the only one walking around serving drinks.

Keith taps the man, a large lumberjack kind of man, on the shoulder and catches his attention. 

“Can I help you?” The man asks. 

“I’m looking for someone.” Keith starts. The bartender laughs deeply as he moves back behind the bar to start pouring some more drinks. 

“Aren’t we all, kid.” He says. Keith scowls at him.

“He’s tall, blue eyed, water mage. Possibly traveling with a companion. Also tall, round, wears an orange headband.” Keith says. The bartender moves past him without even sparing Keith a glance. Keith growls and follows at his heels. “Have you seen him?”

The bartender sighs and turns on Keith. “Briefly. Now go away.” 

Keith follows as the man starts to walk away again. “Did you see which way he went?” 

“No, but you can ask Ezor. Pink everything, can’t miss her.” The bartender relents, pointing in the direction of the far right corner. “Now seriously, go away kid.”

“I’m not a-” Keith starts to say but when he turns back to the bartender he’s already disappeared. “Kid.” He finishes lamely.

Keith makes his way to the corner to find the ‘her’ named Ezor. He has no trouble finding her. Ezor certainly is pink everywhere. Pink dress, pink hair, pink lips, pink shoes. _So much pink._ The color is blinding in the otherwise neutral colors of this far off town standing on the border of the mountains on the Altean side. Keith has also seen her before. 

One of Prince Lotor’s royal guards, unusually made solely of women. 

There is a rumor going around that his Guard is also his own personal Harem. There is no evidence to the rumors, but Keith would highly doubt Prince Lotor could keep his hands off. Lotor even has a little nickname to go with the rumors. Prince Lotor the manwhore. Catchy. 

Keith waits for the woman to finish her wrestling match, and she does so quickly, with a look of anger. When the man walks away with pride beaten, Keith takes his place at the table. Ezor, with a raised eyebrow, knocks back three shots before she looks at him with a devious smile. 

“Well well, if it isn’t the pirate captain. Keith was it? What brings you so far from the waters you claim as your own?” Ezor asks. Keith keeps a neutral face, knowing better than to give anyone from Daibazal a reason to punish him for being a traitor. Which is why his secret as a double agent for Altea is so important to keep secret. Otherwise, he and Shiro will _both_ be sacrificed to the Arena.

“They are not my waters, they are Emperor Zarkon’s.” Keith replies. “And I could ask the same of you.”

“Duty calls. I presume you are after the strapping McClain?” Ezor asks, but it’s redundant. “You just missed him. He rode away towards the mountains earlier this afternoon.” 

Keith's eyes narrow as he asks, “Why tell me so freely the information of my target’s whereabouts?” 

Ezor smiles at him predatorily, and Keith fights away his flight instinct. “Because why wouldn’t I? We are on the same side, are we not?”

Keith nods slowly. “Of course, I must be going now.”

“Of course.” Ezor says. Keith walks away, feeling Ezor’s eyes on his back the entire time.

Keith mounts his horse and surges towards the edge of town that leads to the mountains. He’s riding so fast, he nearly tramples people who are too slow to dart out of his path. He passes the last of the buildings and surges into the forest, then slows to find abnormal tracks. If he knows the Serpent, he knows that he would never leave himself so exposed to travel on the roads. He would be close by, but he would be hidden by the trees. 

Keith rides slower than he would have preferred, but it’s the only way to navigate the dense trees and follow the tracks that are hardly visible. 

Keith follows the tracks all night, nearly falling off his horse when his eyes slipped shut on him. But he keeps with the course, making sure he can reach the Serpent and whoever travels with him before daybreak. Maybe if he attacks at night, when they rest, he can get it over with quickly and painlessly. 

He has no plans to hurt anyone, but if it comes down to it he will do as needed.

Keith fights his own body, refusing to sleep, until he hears the crackle of flames. Keith steps down from his horse, his feet barely making a sound when he lands, and he walks his horse over to a nearby area of green grass. He unloads his weapons, a pair of dual swords. They were the swords given to him by Shiro, before Shiro was taken prisoner for crimes he didn’t commit. 

These swords were the beginning of Shiro’s torment, so shall they be the end. 

One way, or another.

Keith makes sure his horse is tied down in the patch of grass before he creeps through the trees. He stays light on his feet, watching where he steps so he doesn’t step on leaves or sticks that might give his position away. He keeps behind trees, and crouched low to the ground to disguise his movement as animal movements. Keith keeps edging slowly closer to the campfire, making sure his target is actually there. 

Keith stops when the flame becomes visible, then gets even lower, practically crawling, but with his hands holding his swords, not carrying his weight. It’s harsh on his stomach to keep himself upright when his core is so off balance, but he manages.

He sneaks right up to the camp, hiding behind a thicket that surrounds the small clearing. 

He sees the First Mate, the large one with the headband, first. He’s lying on his side, back to Keith. Then he sees McClain, sitting up against a tree, using a dagger to clean his finger nails. He hums a gentle melody that flows away from Keith with the breeze that rolls through. Keith slowly slides up his black face mask, to hide his pale skin with the darkness. 

It’s only when they move, that he sees the third figure. Not one he’s encountered before. 

They are tiny, almost slight like a female, but their clothes are male, and they have short hair. They, whoever they are, shift around and turn to face the fire in their sleep, and in doing so, giving Keith a glance at their face. He had hoped he could identify their gender, but even their face is contradicting. 

Delicate pale skin, unmarred by combat, countered with a sharp jawline. They’re small, not just short, like a child. Since when does McClain employ children on his ship? Unless perhaps they are not employed? Keith can see no resemblance of the Serpent in them, nor the First Mate. And there was never a rumor that McClain, the Serpent himself, was a father. Why would he be a pirate if he had a child anyways? Why would anyone abandon their kin in such a disgraceful manner?

Keith takes a slow breath in as he feels his anger build, though not at the Serpent or his crew, or the child he travels with, only at his own childhood misfortunes. 

He can’t get angry. Not in battle, nor as he spies. Being the Dragon, he has made it his personal spell to breathe the fire in his veins, to expel the overwhelming magical energy by breathing it out. Now, it is the only way his magic will expel itself without using offensive or defensive magic. It’s impossible to keep the magic at bay, especially when he’s angry. So he must be cold, emotionless. 

Should he let his emotions run wild, he will end up hurting someone, or worse, killing them. 

Keith grips his swords tight and raises them slowly. But not slowly or deceptively enough it seems, because McClain’s head snaps towards him. Before Keith can blink, they are both moving. The Serpent lives up to his reputation, because once their swords meet for the first time, they do not meet again. McClain moves too quickly, too abnormally. Like the water he wields, he moves in ways no other has before. 

Smooth, graceful, flowing like a river into every move. 

However, just as Keith’s blades do not strike the skin of the Serpent, neither does the Serpent’s swords strike him. McClain yells out in the midst of their dance, waking his comrades with a shout. Keith, being outnumbered, retreats to the trees. It gives him a few seconds head start as the two of McClain’s companions scramble to run after him. He can hear a voice on the wind, high pitched but rough, wondering who they’re chasing.

Keith smiles as he darts past his horse and back the way they came, where they had passed through a small open field. Just big enough to accommodate a sword fight, and a magic one as well. Keith bursts through the tree line in a leap, arms covering his face as he jumps over a thicket line, and avoids the branches of the trees that are sure to cut his cheek. 

He lands, rolls and comes back up with his swords just in time to block an arrow. 

Keith gets distracted a moment as he looks down at the ground in shock, at two halves of an arrow. _Well, that one is new, he’ll admit_ No one will ever believe he was quick enough to not only block, but _slice_ a flying arrow in _half_ with his swords. He has a feeling that will never happen again in his lifetime, because that was not skill, that was luck. 

Keith looks up at McClain, who holds a bow, one arm raised and bent behind his head to draw another arrow. Even the Serpent looks shocked. They both stare at each other for a second, and then another arrow is nocked and loosed. Keith makes the smart decision and drops to the ground instead of trying to cheat death _again._

Keith sends himself into the air, using his fire on the palms of his hands and toes of his feet, his fire burning the arrow that sticks into the ground where his head once was.

When he lands, he is faced with all three of his current opponents. They flank him in a triangular formation. First Mate to Keith’s left, the child to the right, and McClain dead ahead, an arrow nocked and ready to fire. Keith tenses as he readies himself for a hard battle ahead of him. 

“Surrender Dragon. I have no desire to kill you so you may rot on the land, instead of resting in the sea like a true sailor.” McClain says, moving forward slowly, keeping his body level so his shot is always ready when he needs to fire. 

“Forgive me Serpent, but I’m going to have to decline. I do hope you understand.” Keith says, implying a deeper meaning. He had gotten a message when arriving in port from Princess Romelle of Altea. She said she had told McClain his loyalties, and forbidden him from capturing Keith and bringing him in. With as much hatred in McClain’s eyes right now, he wonders what would be so compelling to make the Serpent bend his will to the Princess. He obviously wants nothing more than to release the arrow, and send it in his chest.

Keith hopes Romelle was persuasive enough to stay McClain’s hand.

“Oh believe me, I understand well.” McClain replies. His face darkens considerably with anger, and Keith swallows as he prepares to fight. Maybe trying to ambush McClain alone was a bad idea, after all. It is clear that McClain is a very talented, and very powerful water and ice mage. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t at least injure you.”

Keith dodges the resulting arrow and the fight commences once again.


	15. Strange Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight continues.

Lance was not prepared for Kogane’s arrival. 

He wasn’t even paying attention to his surroundings, servicing his nails to clean them of the dirt they had accumulated. It was Golem who brought the movement to Lance’s attention. The little creature is Lance’s best friend, aside from Hunk and maybe Pidge too. But other than them, Lance loves the little guy. Pidge is the sweetest to keep using her magic to keep him sentient. 

So anyways. Golem probably saved their lives.

And here Lance stands, with an arrow aimed at the Dragon himself, Hunk and Pidge flanking Kogane’s sides. Kogane looks like he regrets coming after Lance and his crew. And if he doesn’t now, he will, Lance will make sure of it. 

However, playing the double agent card? That’s just pathetic. 

Lance keeps the conversation vague, so as not to clue Hunk and Pidge on it. Last thing he needs is Hunk overly sympathizing and wanting to be friends, or Pidge asking too many questions. _So many questions._ The girl, er, guy today? The guy gets on Lance’s nerves when he just won’t stop with the questions. To be fair, he’s usually quiet when they train, but any other time? Questions, questions, questions. 

So yeah no. No spilling the beans. 

Spilling the beans on Kogane’s loyalties means bringing into question how Lance knows. Which will bring into question why he even cares, and why he’s listening to Romelle’s demands if he’s a pirate. Which will bring in to question _what_ Romelle has on him to keep him from killing or capturing the Dragon. And thus, it will reveal his place as a Prince from a kingdom across the seas. Which he refuses. 

Kogane is a scrappy fighter, he uses his surroundings as weapons themselves. The trees for cover and for getting the high ground. The dirt to blind, and the air to feed his fire. Which, there's a lot of fire going around. 

For a moment, the images before him distort into something else, something unexplainable.

One moment, Kogane is dodging Hunk’s brutal sword swings, and then the next, he’s using his fire as a wall, to push back Hunk and Pidge when they surge towards him. While Hunk is quick, he’s in a completely different spot than he was only moments before, and he brings up a dome around him to block the fire, the earth keeping him safe from harm. Pidge however. Pidge is mid swing through the air, the trees giving him an advantage with the strange weapon Lance has been training him with, despite the fact that Pidge was still by his side only a moment ago. He’s too slow, and watches the fire with wide eyes as it approaches. 

Lance screeches out, “No!” shocking the images in front of him back to before the fire wall ascends.

Lance is confused for a second, as he realizes Pidge is only just now ascending through the air, and Hunk is only just now being pushed back enough for Kogane to bring up that wall of fire. Which is weird, because Lance already saw all this happening. Lance hesitates for only a moment before he realizes Pidge is about to get hurt and runs towards him, just as the fire surges up and then outwards. 

Lance is too slow, and Pidge is swinging down, and he is too _slow._ Lance hears the dome surge up around Hunk, and then he hears Pidge scream, and Lance is still too slow. He whips out a strip of water, taking it from the trees around him and effectively killing them, and he sends it towards Pidge. 

He’s still too slow. 

The fire reaches Pidge before Lance’s water does, and when his water does, it puts out the flames. However he’s too late, there is already damage done. Pidge is unmoving and Lance stops in his tracks. His anger, and grief, and hatred surge up through him like a tidal wave. Like his magic is swelling up from his own emotions, and he can’t keep them in, he can’t, he can’t. 

Lance raises his hands to his head as his temple throbs and aches, gasping for air. His swords are gone, left behind in his rush to Pidge. Lance squeezes his eyes shut, and then he lets his magic free with a pained yell, voice breaking from how much the magic takes from him. He’s never felt his magic react like this, like his magic itself is ripping through his skin to be set free. When the magic ceases, his emotions and magic alike simmer down and cool when he stops yelling. 

And when he opens his eyes, the clearing has entered a blizzard and came out the other side frozen. 

Keith is in the middle of the clearing, and is frozen in a block of ice. His hands frozen to his swords, his body frozen from the neck down. He can’t even struggle. Hunk lets down his earth dome, which has frosted granules sticking to the hard rock. And Pidge, oh his little protege, his precious student. He lies on the ground, an ice blanket surrounding him, but not touching the space he lies still on. There is a soft frost creeping toward him from the solid ice, but it never reaches. 

As if Lance’s magic was too afraid to know if Pidge still lives.

The ice has even surged up like a crashing wave against the trees and brush, reaching upwards and curling towards the center of the clearing in an arc. With the fire put out, it takes a moment for everyone's eyes to readjust to the darkness. The entire area is covered in his magic, almost as big a spell as the dome he used on his ship, or at least the same amount of magic was used.

Lance feels it to his bones, and he collapses, but Hunk, like always, is there to catch him before he hits the ground. 

“Lance! Lance, she's still alive!” Hunk shakes him. Lance is numb from the shock and dreary from the output of magic, so all he can think about is how Hunk just misgendered Pidge. He wouldn’t appreciate being misgendered. “Lance, she's breathing! Look!”

Lance does look, and he watches Pidge’s chest rise and fall slowly, as if his body is only asleep. 

Lance lets Hunk drag him to Pidge’s side, and they both collapse, ignoring the fire mage frozen in a block of ice. Lance snaps out of it when he sets a hand on Pidge’s chest to feel it move with breath. 

“Heal him.” Lance says. “You’re an Earth Mage, you can heal him right?” 

“Lance, healing magic isn’t something everyone can do.” Hunk says, looking distressed. “I can’t.”

“Then I will!” Lance says. And he _knows_ he must be delirious now, because healing is Earth magic, not water. Healing magic and healing spells are an earthen spell, so Lance isn’t able to heal Pidge. But in his delirium, he doesn’t care. All he wants is his student back, his protege, his little sibling. 

“Lance you use water magic! Healing isn’t water spells, it’s earth!” Hunk shouts. 

“I don’t care. I don’t care, I will _not_ lose Pidge like the others.” Lance says, and he doesn’t realise the words he spoke were not words he needed to be saying until it was already being said. Lance bites his tongue to keep from saying more on the matter.

“What others?” Hunk asks. Lance ignores him, and closes his eyes to concentrate. He places both hands on Pidge’s chest, feeling the ragged breaths and almost collapsing in anguish from the sound and feel of it. 

“Come on. Come on.” Lance whispers. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”

“Lance-” 

“Shut up!” Lance cuts Hunk off with a pain filled cry, and he focuses hard, harder than he’s ever focused on his magic before. Magic comes so naturally to him, he’s never really needed to concentrate unless it’s on his Ice Sniper spell, but in this moment in time? He concentrates so hard his head feels like it’ll explode. Gathering every ounce of magic, and every ounce of his will to try to heal Pidge. Anything, anything will work. Anything at all. 

He should have never let Pidge come on this trip, but that’s what he wanted. He wanted to be with Lance, his master, his mentor. How could he have denied him? How could he have _allowed_ this? He saw it didn’t he? He saw the fire beforehand. How? Good question, but he did. He saw it, he could have _done_ something. How could he lose Pidge like this? How could he let him or her or whatever gender they prefer, how could he have let them down?

“Lance?” Hunk asks. “What are you doing? Lance!”

Lance forces forth more magic, more energy. He imagines his magic like the blood in Pidge’s veins. Flowing, surrounding, becoming Pidge and surging outwards and inwards, through his bones, over his skin, into his very soul. He doesn’t know if it’s working or not, but he won’t stop until it does. He can’t. He has to save Pidge. 

“Oh my god,” Hunk whispers. “I think it’s actually working. Lance whatever you’re doing, keep it up!”

Lance grunts an affirmative, and feels Hunk’s hands lay over his. Then, Lance feels Hunk’s magic run through him. It reminds him of stability, and strength, the shoulder you can cry on. It strengthens Lance, and flows into Pidge through Lance, like a conduit. Then Pidge is surging up from the ground with a gasp, coughing as if he drowned. Then he flips onto his side and coughs out _actual_ water. 

Looks like perhaps there _is_ a reason water does not heal then.

Lance watches Pidge with wide eyes, and when he is done coughing he sits up and wipes his mouth off. There are no more burns, no more injuries. Lance healed him. _Lance_ healed him. Lance _healed_ him. With _water_ magic. Or perhaps he opened the gate so Hunk could heal Pidge?

Whatever it was, Lance doesn’t care, because his little protege is alive and unharmed. 

Lance pulls Pidge into a crushing hug, just before Hunk does the same. They hug for only a brief moment before Pidge squirms away and stands up. Then his eyes widen in shock as he looks around, and Lance realizes that the ice covering the entire clearing was his own doing. He doesn’t know how he did it, but he did, and then he saved Pidge. 

“What happened?” Pidge asks, stepping slowly onto the ice, but stepping back into the untouched circle when he nearly slips. “Lance?”

Lance stands up and looks around too. “I don’t know, I just, I thought you were dead. And then this happened. And then,” Lance stops there and looks to Hunk. 

“Hunk healed me?” Pidge asks, then turns around to face Hunk. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t the First Mate, Hunk, as you call him.” Kogane says from his block of ice. He looks slightly bored, but the way he watches Lance is weird. Almost admiringly. There’s even a small smile on his face, crooked, and pulling up just long enough in one corner to show a glimpse of teeth. “It was the Serpent who healed you.”

“I’m sorry, the what?” Pidge asks. 

“Not what, who. Captain McClain, better known through Daibazal and the two island chains as the Serpent.” Kogane explains patiently, still trapped as ever in that ice. 

“Wait a minute. How did you get in that block of ice?” Pidge asks. Kogane’s eyes sweep back over to Lance, this time curious. 

“Ask your captain. There are very few who can use magic like I do, but I might have just found one.” Kogane says. Lance is getting a very weird feeling. Not bad, not good, just weird. _Very_ weird. 

“And how is that?” Hunk asks, actually playing into the conversation. Kogane is probably just distracting them so the rest of his crew can catch up and capture them. 

“Good question.” Kogane replies. “Not entirely sure yet. Just sure that McClain is like me.”

“I’m nothing like you.” Lance spits out angrily, finally wiping away the tears that had fallen in the chaos. He walks forward, melting and dissolving the ice with every step he takes. Like a ripple, the dissolving surges outwards and slowly up the trees bit by bit. By the time Lance reaches Kogane, the block of ice is dissolved and he is on his knees. 

“And I am taking you prisoner before your crew can find and surround us.” Lance says. Kogane stands clumsily as Lance yanks him to his feet, using his ice to bind his hands, despite the nausea that builds all the way up to the back of his throat. He hasn’t even fully healed and recharged from a mere month ago or so, and now he’s back at square one. 

At least this time he didn’t go into a two day coma. 

“I am alone, so no worries there.” Kogane replies merrily. Far too merrily for Lance’s preference. Makes Kogane look suspicious.

“Whatever you say.” Lance says, definitely not believing him. 

He walks away with the Dragon at sword point, and only stumbles a little as he walks. His body is giving in to the exertion of his magic, and trying to take him to the ground. But Lance pushes on, forcing himself to walk as perfectly as can be. They find Kogane’s horse on the way back to camp, and he gives it to Pidge to ride while the rest of the group walks. Hunk watching the trees behind, Kogane in front of Lance’s sword, and Pidge riding ahead to watch for any more ambushers. The moment they reach camp, Lance has Hunk and Pidge gather their supplies and stomp out the fire. 

They will be leaving the moment their things are packed. Best not to stay after being ambushed once already.


	16. Fingertips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance hides the repercussions for expelling that amount of magic.

“I need you to take Kogane back to the ship.” Lance says to Hunk the moment he finishes tying his pack to his horse. Hunk whorls around on him faster than a man that size should be permitted. 

“What? No!” Hunk says. “I’m not leaving your side, life debt remember?” 

“Hunk,” Lance sighs. “I already told you a hundred times before, your debt is paid. And I can’t send Kogane away with Pidge, and he certainly wouldn’t willingly go himself.” 

“First of all, no it isn’t. You saying it is isn’t how life debts work. Second of all, I’m not going. I will be by your side until my debt is _truly_ paid.” Hunk says stubbornly, crossing his- _oh great, again with the arm crossing_ \- and standing defiantly. 

“Then what do you want me to do with him? Kill him? Tie him to a tree and hope he’s there when the task is complete?” Lance asks sarcastically.

“Or we could bring him with us.” Hunk says, shrugging. God Lance hates when Hunk is stubborn. 

“Bring him-” Lance curses in his native tongue, a slip in his composure that makes Hunk’s eyebrows draw low in confusion. Lance bites down on his tongue as punishment for slipping up again. Dammit, ever since they came into contact with Kogane Lance has been slipping up. 

“Bring him with us? What, like a pet? You wanna give him doggie treats and keep him on a leash too?” Lance finally snaps. “We can’t bring him with us, that’s insane, you need to take him back to the ship and throw him in the brig.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care what you say, I am your First Mate, and I will put your safety over capturing Kogane.” Hunk says, not even sounding mad. He just sounds like he’s not going to budge, which Lance gets the feeling he won’t.

“I order you as Captain.” Lance tries. 

“No can do.” Hunk replies, moving past him and gathering up Lance’s unpacked things. Lance growls in frustration. 

“Hunk.” Lance snaps.

“Lance.” Hunk mocks. 

“Fine I’ll send Pidge.” Lance says. This gets Hunk’s blood rushing apparently. 

“Pidge is too young, and too untrained to make the journey alone. And what if Kogane gets free? He’s already hurt her once.” Hunk growls at him, keeping his voice low so Pidge doesn’t hear it from his place on the other side of the small clearing, where he struggles to stuff his things in his pack. That reminds him, Hunk is still misgendering Pidge right now.

“You think I don’t know that? He almost died Hunk!” Lance says. “But I can’t bring him with-”

Lance cuts himself off. Like earlier, when he saw the flame before Kogane unleashed it, he sees something else. They are in a fight, a big one, and Kogane is there, hands unbound, fighting back to back with Lance. The scenery is blurry, so Lance can’t make anything beyond him and Kogane, water and fire and ice. Then there’s a moment, a brief moment where Lance is almost struck, and the Lance who stares at Hunk watches as the Lance who fights is saved by none other than Kogane. 

What is happening? Why is he seeing this, as if he were an outsider? The images blur and kind of restart, but this time Kogane isn’t fighting beside Lance, and Lance feels the pain as he is struck down. The images fade, and he blinks at Hunk, who is speaking to him with concern in his voice.

“-okay? Lance are you okay? What’s wrong?” Hunk is saying, and his worry is garnering the attention of both Pidge _and_ Kogane, who sits tied to a tree, legs straight and crossed at the ankle as if he were perfectly fine with being a prisoner. It makes Lance suspicious. Everything Kogane does makes Lance suspicious, even and especially when he breathes. 

So why would Kogane be the difference in Lance being hurt, and Lance being okay?

“Lance!” Hunk yells, and Lance snaps out of his own head. 

“What?” Lance says. “Why are you yelling?”

“Where did you go?” Hunk asks. “Why were you so distracted?”

“It’s nothing. You know what Hunk? You’re right, we should bring him, I think he could be useful.” Lance says. He isn’t sure why Kogane’s presence could be such a game changer, but something in his gut forces him to follow along with whatever it is he’s seeing.

“Oh-” Hunk says, watching as Lance strides over to Kogane. “Kay?”

Lance ignores him as he stands before Kogane with crossed arms. “I hope you can ride without using your hands, because you’re coming with us.” 

“Of course I can.” Kogane scoffs, then looks up at Lance with uncertainty written plainly across his face. “Where are we going?”

Lance draws his sword and cuts away the rope binding him to the tree, his hands still bound behind his back. Lance grabs him by the arm and yanks him to his feet, making Kogane stumble a little. He drags Kogane to Lance’s horse, and gets on first.

“Hunk if you don’t mind.” Lance says as he situates himself where he wants to be. Hunk obliges him, stepping forward and rolling up his sleeves.

“Of course.” Hunk replies. 

“Don’t mind wha- hey!” Kogane yelps as he’s lifted into the air by Hunk, both of his large hands holding Kogane by the waist. Hunk’s hands show just how slim Kogane’s waist is as it creases the clothing close to his body. Hunk sets him gently on top of the horse, behind Lance. 

When Lance glances over his shoulder at the Dragon, Kogane looks flushed and out of breath.

“Got it!” Pidge yells out in triumph as he stuffs his pack closed and throws it over his shoulder. Pidge scurries over to his horse and gets on with minimal struggle, determined to prove that he doesn’t need Hunk’s help getting up on the horse. Despite Hunk being very able to lift him, since he lifts Lance up all the time, and he just lifted Kogane like it was no problem. 

Which, it probably wasn’t.

There is some strength in Hunk’s body that’s hardly noticeable with the way he acts, all gentle like until someone he loves or cares for is in trouble or needs help. Or just to show off the few times Lance lets his crew get drunk on the ship, and somebody stupidly challenges Hunk to an arm wrestle. 

Sometimes, when Hunk gets drunk, the crew challenges him to see how many people he could carry.

It gets crazy too. Lately, to allow for convenience, the crew would sit on a bench, adding a person everyt ime Hunk lifts them. Last time it happened, Cook somehow got involved. Watching a dozen or so fully grown, very muscled and heavy men pile onto each other on a bench, just to see if Hunk could lift them up? The greatest pastime Lance could imagine. And when Cook joined in, Hunk was finally unable to lift the bench. 

“Are we ready?” Lance asks, and Hunk nods. He turns and stomps the ground with a foot, and the earth surges up and over the campfire, then settles completely. It’s the easiest way for them to hide their tracks. Every once in a while, Hunk stomps the ground, and covers their tracks with his magic, leaving only a subtle disturbance in the wake. 

“Let’s ride.” Lance commands, and he whistles sharply at the horse. One by one the three of them take off through the trees, the moon peeking through the branches to cast beams of moonlight. They ride for a good while, always staying just close enough to the path so they don’t get lost. They actually manage to come upon a cave this time, set into the side of one of the smaller mountains, one that is too steep to climb on horseback, and too far away from their destination to matter. 

They have about another day’s ride to the next town, the last town the sightings of the changed people were in.

“Alright.” Lance says as they come up to the cave. “Pidge, unpack. Hunk, do a perimeter sweep, then gather some wood and rocks for a fire.”

“On it.” Hunk says. None of them speak very much because all of them are tired, and Lance has forbidden Kogane to speak, which he obliged willingly. Lance hops down from the horse and stretches out his back. His muscles are stiff not only from the ride, but from riding so tense, prepared for another attack, or for Kogane to try and escape. But all that Kogane has done is sit quietly behind Lance, with his hands bound in Lance’s ice. 

Not rope, because the rope is flammable, and at least if Kogane were going to try to melt the ice, Lance would feel it. 

Pidge doesn’t bother unpacking everything he brought like the last time they settled in for camp, just his blankets, using his bag as a pillow like Lance and Hunk do. He quickly gets out the blankets for Hunk and Lance, and then starts to get out an extra blanket for Kogane.

“I don’t need a blanket.” Kogane says, staying her movements with a few quiet words. “I’m a fire mage, I’m always warm.”

Lance rolls his eyes, and drags Kogane down from the horse, making him land with a thud. Kogane grunts upon impact, glaring at Lance. He, in return, smirks down at the Dragon as he struggles to his feet without using his hands. 

“Come on flames for brains,” Lance says, crossing his arms. He’s enjoying this, and he isn’t afraid to let Kogane know. “I can’t wait all night for you to get up.”

“You,” Kogane huffs as he finally stands to his full height. “Are an ass.”

“I’ve been called worse.” Lance shrugs. He directs Kogane to the very back of the small cave, then situates his blankets to lay right in front of him. Pidge takes the action as a cue to readjust Hunk and hiself’s blankets, putting an empty area in the center where the fire will be. Hunk returns shortly before Pidge finishes tying up the horses, while Lance stares at Kogane with his back to the cave wall, just beside the entrance. The ground is smooth, worn down from travelers taking refuge beneath the safety of the cave ceiling. 

Hunk takes a few tries to light it, but the fire doesn’t spark. 

“I could do that easily, you know.” Kogane pipes up as he watches Hunk struggle.

“No thanks.” Hunk says, casting a side eyed glance at Kogane. “I’ve got it.”

Lance watches Kogane as Hunk keeps struggling to light the fire. Kogane sees him looking and locks eyes with Lance, the almost purple color of his eyes locking with Lance’s blue. Kogane smiles at him and then turns his eyes to Hunk in a quick flicker. Lance narrows his eyes in suspicion. 

Kogane looks back at Hunk, then winks at Lance, and blows. 

All he does is blow air, but he does it the exact moment that Hunk tries to light the fire again. With Lance’s close attention to what Kogane is doing, he feels as the magic flows over the short distance between himself and the fire. And just like that, the fire sparks and lights. 

Lance doesn’t say anything when Hunk calls out in triumph. 

When the fire is lit, close enough to the entrance of the cave that the smoke won’t stay trapped beneath the ceiling, but not so close that they can’t feel it’s warmth, Lance volunteers for the first watch. At the very least, it’s because it’s Lance’s magic binding Kogane, and Lance doesn’t trust the Dragon as far as he can throw him. 

At the most, it is because he is afraid.

Afraid that Kogane will lose his docile act, and attack when Lance is asleep, and Lance can’t let him hurt anyone else. Afraid that Kogane lied, and that his crew will be here at any moment to take them all prisoner, or worse, kill them. Afraid that if he doesn’t keep watch, and his friends lose sleep, they’ll be at a disadvantage for whatever is coming in the near future.

Afraid that if he sleeps, he will go into a coma like he did with the ice dome, and with how much even keeping the cuffs intact is taking up his magic, that’s a very real possibility. 

Lance shivers with the cold as his magic weakens for a moment, and a wave of nausea rolls through his stomach. Pidge and Hunk eventually drift off to sleep after Hunk makes sure Pidge is really okay for the hundredth time. Lance is grateful Hunk took the liberty to make sure Pidge is alright, because once Lance sat down where he did at the entrance of the tiny cave, he hasn’t been able to move. His muscles feel frozen in place, and even breathing hurts.

Lance shivers again and looks down at his hands, seeing the frost on the tips. 

His magic is reacting to the surges, and is, essentially, going haywire. Lance curls his fingers in and wills the frost to recede, and it works for only a moment. Then his head is pounding and he can barely concentrate long enough for it to matter. When he opens his eyes again the frost is back. 

“You okay?” Kogane asks, nearly whispering. The sound jars Lance, shocking him so hard his magic accidentally tightens around Kogane’s wrists. The sudden tightness forces out a hiss of pain from the Dragon. Lance immediately relaxes both his body and his hold on the magic, just enough to allow blood to flow. 

“Sorry, you shocked me. Didn’t mean to tighten the cuffs like that.” Lance says. It’s barely a mumble, but to Lance the sound echoes and distorts. Lance blinks his eyes hard to refocus. 

“It’s fine. You okay?” Kogane asks again. 

“Yeah why? And why do you care?” Lance snaps, lying about feeling like his body is rejecting him.

“It’s just. That was a lot of magic you expelled back there to heal the little one, which should have been impossible, seeing as your affinity is water, not Earth.” Kogane says. “Are you sure you are feeling fine?”

“Yeah of course. I’m not _that_ weak you know.” Lance grouses. He knows he’s just being a jerk when Kogane is being an actual person for once. He can’t help it, he hates this guy. 

“I didn’t say you were, never have.” Kogane says. 

Lance mumbles, “Whatever” and that’s the conversation. They slip back into silence, and Lance shivers again, and he sees the frost creep further, slipping around his wrists. He promptly hides them under his arms. It’s fine, he’ll be fine. Once he settles, his magic will too, and there will be no more icy frost creeping up his hands. 

Except it doesn’t, Lance just refuses to acknowledge it.


	17. Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith helps Lance with his magic issues.

Keith watches McClain sharply once the conversation ends. 

He’s lying, and Keith knows it, but what’s his place to interfere? If the Serpent wishes to tread water alone, that is his decision. Even if the Dragon is ready to sweep him through the air and into shallower waters. 

McClain might believe he’s hiding it well, but Keith can see frost on his hands. It’s something Keith goes through as well. The thing about Keith, and apparently McClain as well, is that they use magic within, not without. Which, fire mages always draw from within, but differently, and for an Ice Mage to do the same? It’s not anything Keith has experienced before. 

To draw from the soul to use magic, means that you sell out a piece of your soul to do so. 

Trade too much at once, and your soul won’t replenish fast enough. Trade too little, and your soul will find a way to force the expelling. Most fire mages draw from the breath, not the soul. There’s an old belief that when a fire mage is born their blood holds sparks of flame that are then used through the fingertips, or well, most of the time it’s fingertips. Sometimes though, people like Keith can expel magic from any point on their body. Keith has been through what McClain is certainly going through now, though far less serious, in his opinion anyways. 

For Keith, he always draws from the soul, but for McClain, it seems as if he can do both. 

When Keith had expelled the kind of energy and magic McClain did today, his fire licked at his skin, creeping and creeping until he was engulfed. The only thing that could douse the flames was to lower his temperature. His brother, or sort of brother, Shiro, made him jump in a pile of snow to rid him of the fire. When it didn’t immediately work, he made Keith stay in the cold until his magic had calmed. 

Should he do the same for McClain? 

Since he’s an ice mage, a water mage, his only choice on how to melt the frost that now reaches his elbows and is creeping over his face, is fire. McClain seems to not notice the frost has moved, has covered an entire cheek with frost granules. If Keith didn’t know how dangerous it is, he would have thought it looked beautiful.

The frost, not McClain. 

_Duh._ That would be weird. 

Keith bites at his lip as he wonders how he can get McClain to warm up. He tugs at the ice cuffs gently, and chews his lip harder when they shatter and McClain doesn’t even notice. _The magic was so thin…_

Keith looks at Hunk, the First Mate, and the little one with a name he can’t remember and a gender that seems to change like the tide. He isn’t which one it is, girl, or boy, since in the short time since their fight, he’s heard McClain say one thing and Hunk say the other. They’re sound asleep, and even the little rock figurine that apparently lives somewhat is asleep. So it’s just him and McClain, and McClain is shivering so hard he might make the mountain shiver too. Keith bites the bullet and scoots slowly across the cave and to McClain. 

His movement is hardly noticed by the Serpent, until Keith puts his hands on McClain’s.

Blue eyes snap open, and then squeeze shut as the movement hurts somehow. The tightening of McClain’s frost covered face makes the icy granules crack and even a few fall off. They are replaced by more granules soon enough, not quickly, but not slowly either. The frost creeps over the bridge of McClain’s nose, and then when Keith glances down, his hands aren’t only frosted but a solid layer of ice has passed the knuckles and is chasing the frost that disappears beneath McClain’s shirt. The frost reappears at McClain’s collar bone, showing sharply in the moonlight since the peasant shirt is falling down one shoulder. 

“Wha’r ya doin’?” McClain slurs, then shivers with a quiet murmur. If he’s being frozen solid, then what would have happened to Keith if he hadn’t cooled down? Would he have been fried to a crisp? 

“I’m going to warm you up.” Keith whispers. McClain makes a broken protest but Keith ignores him as he lets his fire build in his chest. He lets it build and build and grow, until he’s about ready to breath fire again, but instead of focusing his fire in a single direction, he lets it surround him in heat.

It’s so powerful it takes the fire from the campfire and adds it in. The humidity of the night, it adds in. The subtle heat of the animals of the forest, all of it is dragged to Keith, making him a blaze. Then Keith opens his eyes to look at McClain and sees fearful blue eyes looking back at him. The fear chokes him, because McClain is _afraid._

McClain does not get _afraid,_ he gets _defensive._

“Trust me.” Keith says with the smallest of smiles, because he’s too worried to smile any bigger, and then the fear subsides. McClain nods while his eyes slip closed. Keith lets his fire rage until just shy of too big to handle, and then he encases McClain in the blaze.

“Lance?” Hunk says, and Keith doesn’t spare him a glance while he keeps focused on the fire, making sure to burn away the frost and ice but not the skin. “Lance! Get away from him asshole!”

Keith doesn’t even consider a brief second to listen to Hunk, not even to avoid being crushed by the hands that picked him up like he weighed less than a single feather. Not if it means McClain dying, though why he cares so much is beyond Keith. 

He’s only ever cared about one person so much he would turn to a life of misery and piracy.

Shiro raised him when his mother was out of the picture. He taught Keith how to control his magic, despite never affiliating with his own. Always said he would have magic when the time was right and that was that. But even magicless, or being a late bloomer, Shiro knew more about Magic than anyone else Keith knew. 

And he was the only one who could handle Keith.

Through temper tantrums, and magic outbursts that would have destroyed cities, and so many times of running away, Shiro stood by him. He stood by Keith and guided him to control his magic, even if the way he uses it is unlike anyone else in the four kingdoms. Soul control as Shiro called it, because Keith liked words that rhyme and those were the words that were simple and that rhymed. 

So why bother saving someone who is declared as his rival, his enemy?

Well they aren’t true enemies, Keith would suppose. Since Keith works for Romelle, and so does Lance. Keith was actually glad he was captured, because it at least meant more time before he had to return to Daibazal, and less time that he had to spend in that treacherous court and country. More time before he has to deliver McClain to the Emperor.

Keith watches with attentive eyes as the frost slowly burns away, melting and then evaporating.

“Stop it! You’re hurting him!” The little one, Pidge yells. Pidge? Pidge. Keith looks back at them, and they both look unsure of what to do. Keith can understand, he’s not exactly been caught in the best of positions. In normal circumstances, yes, this fire would probably hurt McClain. But he needs to be warmed up and fast, especially since Keith made the mistake of waiting in indecision.

“What do we do?” Pidge yells at Hunk behind him, and Keith grits his teeth, making his magic hold on, just a little longer. The hard ice on McClain’s hands are gone and the frost is back down to his wrists, the only frost left, the hard ice being the first to melt away. Keith makes his blaze even hotter, turning the fire from red and orange to blue, and then focuses on the last of it, sending all of the fire onto McClain. 

It’s over in seconds, and Keith snaps his magic back into his skin like snapping a rubber band, collapsing backwards in exhaustion. 

McClain jerks forward in a gasp, like the ice and frost had deprived him of oxygen. It probably did. The frost probably started in his bones before moving through his insides, and then finally making its way through to the outside of his body, coating his skin. Keith knows when this happened to him, his chest was on _fire._ Probably literally.

Keith had almost waited too long. 

“What?” McClain says, shaking his head in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“I saved your life.” Keith says.

“Lance! You’re okay!” Pidge and Hunk yell simultaneously, barely a beat after Keith spoke. 

“You what?” McClain says, staring at Keith.

“I saved your life.” Keith repeats, tired from using his magic. “You’re welcome.”

“How did you save my life?” McClain asks with a bite to his tone. Keith bristles but forces himself to calm. Getting worked up after that display of magic would be a very bad idea.

“The magic you used to save Pidge, it was too much for your body, and like I said, our magic doesn’t work the same as most people.” Keith explains. “So your magic was slowly freezing you solid as punishment.”

“What are you talking about?” McClain asks. “I told you, I’m nothing like you. And why would my magic do that to me?” 

“Because your soul was shattering, and your magic was trying to escape. You and I draw magic from within, using pieces of our souls to cast. That’s why it’s taken you so long to feel normal when using magic since the day you saved your ship.” Keith says, guessing at that, but knowing he’s right with the uncomfortable look McClain gives him. He stands and dusts off his pants, walking back to the back of the tiny cave and plopping down. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” McClain says at last, sounding uncomfortable.

“Yeah, sure you don’t McClain.” Keith says, not even opening his eyes as he leans back against the stone wall, smoothed down by travelers of the past. 

“Lance? Is that true?” Hunk asks. Sounds like they don’t think he’s gonna hurt McClain anymore, for now at least. McClain is silent a moment, and that is answer enough for the First Mate. “Lance! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It isn’t a big deal, okay? Go back to bed.” McClain says a little nervously. Keith ignores them, shutting them out of his head, and drifting off to a gentle rest. He doesn’t sleep, not most days. He can’t sleep when he feels unsafe, and lately, for almost a year, about the time Shiro was taken prisoner, that is never. Right now though, the sound of Hunk and McClain’s voices relaxes him.

He doses, falling into the best sleep he’s had in a long while.


	18. Distorted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and the group happen upon a village under attack.

They hit the road early the next morning, just as the sun is peeking through the branches of the trees. Like before, Lance has Hunk use his magic to wipe away their tracks as best as possible. This time at least, Lance doesn’t feel like he’ll pass out or go into a coma every time he blinks. In fact, Lance plays with his magic for a minute in private when he is supposed to be taking care of his personal ‘business’, and he doesn’t even get nauseous. 

Whatever Kogane did to him, it worked, and it worked amazingly. 

Though, at the same time as Lance feels thankful for having his magic back, he also feels a little angry. Not about being saved by the Dragon, his nemesis, but because he somehow _knew_ that Lance has been struggling with his magic for the past month or so. And not only that, but he also spilled the beans to Hunk and Pidge, who grilled and lectured him for an hour before they let Lance get some sleep. 

Lance guides his horse around a large hole in the ground, and feels Kogane grab onto him when the movement is too fast for him to keep upright easily. That’s another thing he isn’t happy about. Hunk and Pidge seemed to have accepted Kogane as part of the group since he saved Lance, and insisted, quite heavily, that Lance doesn’t shackle him with magic again. 

Stupid Kogane, he always seems to be one step in front of Lance, even with Lance’s own friends. 

The ride is pretty quiet for most of the morning, with Pidge’s yawning being the only noise other than the sounds of the forest. It’s actually serene, letting Lance relax while he rides. He likes the quiet, even on the ship he prefers being awake in those silent hours between midnight and dawn. When no one is awake except maybe Rolo or Nyma up in the crow’s nest. Or both. 

They usually don’t bother him, allowing him to quietly go to the bowsprite and crawl to the very edge so he can sit in silence, surrounded by the stars and the sea. Now, he’s surrounded by the trees, his friends, and an enemy free of any chains or cuffs or binding elements. 

Well great, his zen is gone now. 

“So,” Kogane drawls out. Lance almost holds back his sigh. _Almost._ “Well geez, you don’t have to be so rude.” Lance fights a smile when he hears no anger but he does hear a pout in Kogane’s tone. 

“Okay fine, what do you want?” Lance says, and he can even hear the amusement in his own voice. Lance feels Kogane perk up behind him, like a puppy being given a treat. 

“Where are we going?” Kogane asks. 

“None of your business, that all?” Lance replies. Kogane huffs behind him, and warm air brushes against Lance’s neck at the movement. It makes him shiver.

“No. I’m bored.” Kogane says. Lance rolls his eyes. 

“Go chase a tree.” Lance replies with a smirk. 

“That’s mean.” Kogane pouts again. 

“I’ve been called worse.” Lance shrugs. 

“Fine. Then tell me how you got the name Serpent. I know why I have mine, but why do you have yours?” Kogane asks. He says it like he genuinely wants to know, and not that he only wants to fill the silence. 

Lance debates actually answering for a moment. 

“It’s a long story.” Lance says at first. 

“Well, we have time it seems.” He fires back. Lance rolls his eyes. 

“Actually.” Pidge says, riding up beside Lance as the trees thin out. “I would like to know too.”

“It’s really not that interesting a story.” Lance deflects, determined not to tell them a lie, nor will he tell them the truth. The truth holds too many opportunities for them to dig into his past, and with how curious little Pidge seems to be, Lance doesn’t want to risk it.

“Oh come on.” Pidge whines. Just then, there’s a change in the noise, something just slightly off that peaks Lance’s paranoia and pokes at it to agitate. Lance straightens his back to listen but Pidge keeps talking. “Why won’t you tell us? What, is it something embarrassing?”

“Pidge be quiet.” Lance says. 

“No way! You never talk about yourself. You’re like this mysterious ghost or some-” Pidge starts. 

“Pidge!” Lance cuts her off. “Shut up and let me listen!” 

At that the three of them go silent, even if it was only Pidge doing the talking. Lance strains his ears, slowing his horse to a stop. He can’t explain how he can hear it, there’s just something off about the ambient sounds of nature. 

Meaning there aren’t any. 

The forest is deadly silent, not even the sound of little critters scurrying in the brush. No birds, no crunching leaves or broken sticks. Lance’s eyes dart around them, realizing that with how dense the brush is along the path, he can’t tell if something is out there. He can’t tell what’s got nature, and consequently Lance, spooked. 

“Lance what is it?” Hunk whispers, and it isn’t loud, but Lance shushes him gently anyways. 

Lance strains his senses to the farthest reaches, trying to detect any difference in the smell of the forest, or maybe a wrong shift in the wind. He concentrates so hard his senses dissolve, like a dream. Suddenly it’s like he’s rushing forward, too fast for a horse or a human to handle, and in the back of his head he knows he hasn’t moved from his tense place on his horse. 

The trees blur, and soon sound returns, but muffled, like he’s listening from underwater. 

They don’t sound right though. He hears footsteps, lots of them. People, not animals. And everyone is running in different directions. There’s a vague sound of screaming, though he can’t tell if it’s from what he’s seeing or if it’s Lance himself because now his head pounds like a drum. And then there’s a smell, just a tiny whiff, but it’s enough. 

Fire, and burning flesh. 

All of a sudden the rushing of his senses stops, but he’s somewhere he hasn’t been yet. A little town. A little town on _fire._ The fire rages in clusters, attached to buildings in a random pattern. The smoke blots out the sky, so it looks like nightfall, and the people. 

The people are running. 

Fleeing. 

_Dying._

Lance gets a glimpse of assailants, men and women who cast magic of shadows, and then he’s snapping back into his own body with a gasp. 

“Lance!” Hunk yells after him as he takes off, Kogane gripping tight to his back. Lance is breathing hard like he had run a marathon, and his head pounds out of his skull. His entire body feels numb, moving on autopilot. Except for the hands latched tight around his waist, the chest pressed tight to his back, the strong legs brushing against Lance’s with the movement of the horse beneath him. 

“McClain stop!” Kogane yells in his ears, almost terrified. Then those hands move from his waist, leaving the area numb like the rest of him, and they reach forward. Those hands yank the reins from Lance’s grasps and pull upwards, nearly sending them falling off the horse as it skids to a stop and rears back with a protestful neigh. 

“What are you doing!?” Lance yells in anger. He goes to reach for the reins, but in his moment of distraction Kogane knocks him to the ground. Lance lands with a thud, the breath getting knocked out of him while tiny sticks and rocks jab into his back. That will hurt later, when the adrenaline wears off.

“Stopping you from getting us killed by a damn tree!” Kogane yells. A moment later Pidge and Hunk trample through the forest and they both skid to a halt just before the horses can stomp on Lance. He gets up from the ground. 

“We need to go!” Lance yells.

“Not until you tell us what’s going on!” Kogane yells back. 

“Lance what did you hear that we didn’t?” Hunk asks. Hunk always seems to ask all the right questions when it comes to Lance and when the time is needed. Lance hates it a lot right now.

“The village we were going to, it’s under attack, I heard the screams and smelled the smoke.” Lance explains, which is about as much as he _can_ explain without sounding crazy. Oh yeah, they’ll _totally_ understand if he just says ‘I just fast forwarded our trip to the village and not only heard the screams and smelled the fire, but I witnessed the carnage with my own eyes, all without moving an inch.’ 

Totally believable. He’ll freak out about it when there aren’t lives being threatened. 

“How did you even hear them? We’re still an hour away?” Pidge asks. She has a tendency to ask all the right questions, just at the wrong time.

“It doesn’t matter, we need to move.” Lance says. He hops up onto the horse again, sitting in front with a complicated maneuver he can’t even believe worked, let alone know how to explain. He didn’t even come close to hitting Kogane in the face, which is a slight disappointment if he’s being honest. 

“Let’s ride. Hyah!” Lance yells, and the three of them take off single file at full speed. What would have been an hour’s ride turns into a ten minute ride, and they see the smoke before they see the town. It rises black into the sky, blotting out the sun and throwing a shadow over them as they get close. The trees thin rapidly and suddenly they’re riding through a field of corn. 

The screams of the innocent aren’t the worst part, it’s the smell. 

Death, blood, smoke, burnt flesh. The smells all swirl together in a disgusting concoction that seeps into their nostrils like poison. Lance raises a wrist to try to block the smell as they get close enough to see the carnage in fine detail. Without a word, Kogane leaps off the horse as they pass by a distorted figure who is casting black magic spells at the innocent people of the town. 

Mid air, Kogane draws his twin swords, and as he lands he takes the man’s head off with him. 

Lance rides past for only a moment before he too leaps off his horse. He isn’t as quick as Kogane to draw his weapons, but to be fair, Lance had to disengage from the saddle before leaping. Lance lands on the ground in a roll, and as he pops up from it he draws his guns and marks three shots center mass of one of the men. 

However, unlike the clean kill Kogane made, the bullets do hardly any damage. 

There is a wound, one that bleeds, but it does nothing more than to slow the man down. Like Kogane’s kill, the man’s entire person is distorted. His arms and legs are made of metal, with a pulsating energy that reeks of death. His skin is pallid, almost grey, like a death pallor. The skin of a corpse when the soul has vanished from the Earthly plane. 

The man is shirtless, almost nude except for the worn out, torn up pants that shred at the knee on one side and shred mid calf on the other. There is no hair on his body. No head hair, no facial hair, not even any eyebrows. The look in his eyes is blank, flat, like he’s just a corpse walking among the living. 

And perhaps that’s closer to the truth than Lance can imagine. 

Lance backs away as the man stalks towards him, and in the corner of his eyes he sees two more closing in. Lance raises his guns again, this time aiming for the heads. Three shots, three kills, or at least there’s supposed to be three kills. Again the bullets do nothing. Lance drops his guns and draws his swords, charging forward and sinking the blades deep into the distorted man’s chest. 

Nothing, absolutely no effect, other than Lance being too close to get away. 

The man picks Lance up by his arms and tosses him like he’s throwing a ball. Lance crashes into the side of a building with a groan of pain. His head bobs as he tries to straighten it up, and when he opens his eyes he sees double of everything. Even double of the men who were surrounding him all throwing a ball of shadows at Lance. His eyes widen and just as he’s about to die, a hand grabs his arm and drags him into the building. 

Lance blacks out, hopefully briefly, as the wooden walls explode from the force of the corrupt magic.


	19. Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and the team beat up bad guys and get rewarded.

Lance doesn't stay unconscious for long because he's being shaken by the shoulders violently. He blinks open his eyes to find violet eyes staring at him. He knows who those eyes belong to almost instinctively. 

"Kogane, what?" Lance slurs. He shakes his head to try to clear it but it just makes his head throb like a drum beat. 

"Snap out of it. We need your help. They aren't dying, why aren't they dying?" Kogane asks with wide eyes. Lance glances around him to find Pidge and Hunk as well as a few of the villagers. Pidge's hands are glowing and Lance watches in amazement as some minor wounds close up beneath the green glow. 

"McClain!" Kogane shouts, shaking Lance's shoulders again. 

Lance pushes Kogane's hands off gently, standing with a wince. His body aches, and he knows he's probably bruised from being tossed around like a dog's chew toy. At his movement everyone looks to him. Lance squares his shoulders even though standing up straight makes fire run through his veins. 

"Hunk. Status report." Lance says. Hunk stands quickly, a very serious look on his face. 

"There are a lot of injured, an unknown amount of casualties, and those people are still ravaging the town. We're holed up in a barn on the edge of town that hasn't seen the carnage yet but it's only a matter of time. Pidge has taken to healing the injured." Hunk says in a quick and clean manner. 

"Right, thank you. Pidge. How are the injured?" Lance asks. Pidge stands from the child she finished healing and faces Lance. She tries to adopt a look of hardened seriousness but her eyes are far too wide to pull it off. 

"Not too many bad wounds, mainly just bumps and bruises. But we couldn't grab everyone before we holed up here. Keith just barely grabbed you." Pidge says. "They won't die, what's wrong with these people?" Her voice is shaky and afraid. Lance lays a hand on her shoulder and smiles. It relaxes her enough for Lance to start forming a game plan. 

"Alright listen up. Guns do nothing, not even if you shoot them in the head. Blades don't do much unless you decapitate them, and I didn't get the chance to try magic." Lance explains. 

"Magic works." Kogane says. Lance nods at him. The new information gives Lance an idea. 

"Alright here's what's going to happen. This is our home base. Pidge, you will stay to heal the injured as best as you can. Kogane and I will take care of the enemy. Hunk you will gather everyone still alive in the town that you can find and bring them to Pidge." Lance instructs. 

"We can help. Tell us what to do." One of the male villagers says. He's older, but his body looks strong. Lance doesn't want to risk the villagers though. 

"You can help Hunk. Any able bodied person willing to help will gather the other villagers. No fighting. Understood?" Lance says. There's a bunch of nods, and then there's action. Lance and Kogane race out of the barn first. Kogane lays down a cover of a fire wall, pushing forward slowly to let Hunk and his team do their work. 

Lance takes to the high ground. 

He gets on top of a building and starts running across them. They aren't close enough to merely jump from roof to roof, but Lance uses his magic to create bridges of ice until he reaches the tallest point in town. It's a church steeple, an old one with a bell. Lance cements his hands to the wall with ice, and just as he did to climb up the side of his ship, he crawls upwards. 

Lance wraps his hands around the spire and pulls upwards. 

He freezes the spire and lets the ice flatten on top before making his way up on top of it. The flat ice is just big enough for a sniper's perch. He crouches low, keeping an eye on the procession of fire. Hunk seems to have taken over the attack while Kogane defends. The distorted men and women converge on the fire wall, probably over three dozen people. 

Lance closes his eyes and begins shaping the ice rifle with his magic. 

It's a hard process, one that takes a lot of concentration. He has to visualize every single piece of the actual rifle. Every groove, every spring, every bullet and every detail of the bullets, every little detail. It takes him a moment to form it but he makes it happen. 

Lance lays flat on the ice, a cold and icy sniper rifle aimed. 

Lance peers into his scope, probably the most difficult piece of the rifle, due to having the need to learn a lot about the mechanics and science behind the scope, and gazes into the battle. Kogane's fire wall is starting to fail, holes popping up in the near solid fire, and the group has only reached about halfway through town. Hunk is doing his best to attack, but his magic is a defensive type, for him to use offensive is probably a toll on his body. 

That's the thing about magic.

Magic has all these rules, and then just as many contradictions and exceptions to those rules. Like rules of nature or gravity. For some reason Earth Magic is the only magic that can heal, however Lance's magic healed, with a side effect. For some reason people can use elements they don't usually specialize in, but only in extreme and desperate life threatening situations. For some reason people specialize in either offensive or defensive magic, however most people can specialize in both. 

The laws of magic are a mystery that may never be understood. 

Lance moves his gun slightly, sending the sightline swinging for a second before Lance stabilizes the gun. In his crosshairs are over a dozen of the distorted figures, pushing up against the fire wall with reckless abandon. Every time one of them sends out a mass of dark magic it makes a new hole in the wall, which Kogane then patches up. Lance adjusts his scope to zoom in close to one about to charge straight through a gigantic hole in Kogane’s fire. He takes a deep breath in and as he releases the breath Lance pulls the trigger of the ice rifle.

The bullet, made of ice and designed to splinter upon impact, nails the man in the neck, and as it splinters, so does the skin and muscle and bone keeping the head attached to the body, essentially decapitating him with one shot. Lance cocks back the gun, reforms a new bullet just like the last and then pulls the trigger again. 

The wall stops as Kogane does, who stares in shock at the dismembered body. 

Lance keeps pulling the trigger, aiming for the necks and decapitating people until his magic runs thin. He knows better than to overdue it again. Surely overusing your magic so often isn’t good for your health. When his magic runs dry, Lance disintegrates the rifle and stands. The flat piece of ice he was laying on disappears beneath his feet, and Lance slides down the roof of the church steeple. 

The roof’s edge comes up on him fast and he leaps off it using the moment of the slide. 

With what little magic he has left to spare, Lance forms a slide from the ground to the air. He hits the ice hard, making him wince as he lands on his hip, possibly bruising the bones and muscle. Lance slides quickly to the ground, the ice disintegrating as his shoulders pass by, keeping a dangerous balance of too much going at once and dropping him, and too little going at once and depleting his already low magic supply. 

The slide levels with the ground sharply, and Lance lands on his feet, ice still crawling across the ground towards the fight still raging. He rides the last of the momentum, crouching low to stay upright, drawing his swords as he goes. Within seconds he’s sliding through the crowd of mottled and disfigured Dark Magic Mages, and he raises his swords, slicing through the air as he passes, and taking heads off with him. 

He only manages to take out a half a dozen, but it’s enough for the townspeople to rally and attack with a new fervor, despite Lance telling them not to. At least they only attack from behind Kogane’s protective wall.

Lance lets himself coast on his ice until he reaches the fire wall, which comes upon him too fast for him to erect a wall of ice to avoid the flames. Lance covers his face with his arms as his magic runs out, and as his feet hit dirt he goes flying through the air from the sharp switch from smooth ice to rough ground. 

He expects the pain of fire on his skin, but it never comes. And neither does the pain of hitting the ground. 

Lance peeks one eye open slowly, and realizes he’s suspended above ground in a casing of air magic. Once he realizes he’s not gonna hit the ground hard, whoever is casting the spell holding him up gently lowers him to his feet. His knees give way beneath him as the adrenaline fades, but Hunk, good old, faithful Hunk is there to put him back on his feet.

“Thanks.” Lance says, and Hunk smiles widely at him before turning back to the dwindling battle. The townspeople have the Dark Mages on the run now, slowly cutting them down as they flee, again, even though Lance told them not to fight. The last one falls dead soon after, just before the border of buildings and corn.

“Where in the hell did you come from?” Kogane asks bewildered, standing before Lance sweaty and slightly bloody too. There’s a sort of burn on his shoulder, but it doesn’t look like a burn from fire magic. “And for that matter, where in the hell did you go?”

“I’d heard stories.” Pidge says, running up to him with eyes wide as saucers. “I didn’t know the spell actually existed! How did you do that? How did you do that spell?”

“What do you mean?” Kogane asks before Lance can a word out. 

“The Ice Rifle! A sniper rifle made purely out of ice! Lance just used it, he’s the only one who _can_ use it. No one else has ever been able to get it just right, but there he goes, doing it like it was easy!” Pidge gushes. Lance’s cheeks burn, and he looks around him to see the townspeople gathering around the three of them, whispering and pointing at Lance. 

“Uh Pidge,” Lance laughs nervously. “It’s no big deal, you can stop now.” 

Pidge turns on him like she was shot in the shoulder so hard it sent her body spinning. _“No big deal!?_ Lance you just performed one of the most difficult spells in _existence._ Until now that spell was just a theory! No one even knows who created it!”

Lance coughs in embarrassment, and looks at the ground. He scuffs his boot against the dirt, not daring to look anyone in the eyes. God, she asks _way_ too many questions. 

“Lance made it.” Hunk says as he squeezes past the crowd. 

“Hunk!” Lance hisses. Hunk’s eyes widen and he mouths an apology. The crowd gets thrown into another set of whispers, meanwhile, Pidge gasps, drawing Lance’s eyes to her face. She looks starstruck. _Oh boy._

“Oh my god.” Pidge says. She starts bouncing up and down, stars growing in her eyes. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“Pidge,” Lance says tensely. He has the very strong urge to run again, just like he did from his home country. “Please don’t.”

“Can I have your autograph?” Pidge almost whispers. The question sends Lance into damage control mode. 

“Oh-kay,” Lance drawls. “Well we have to go now. It was nice meeting everybody!” Lance sets his hands on Pidge’s shoulders to steer her back to the horses, who graze casually as if they didn’t just witness a huge battle of magic. Pidge has her head thrown back to stare up at Lance. 

“Wait!” Someone yells from the crowd. The man steps forward, and Lance recognizes him vaguely as the one who first stepped up to help. “You can’t leave, not without letting us repay you. What you’ve done has saved my people from slaughter, we will be honored to host a feast in your name.”

The man takes a knee, his villagers following suit, as if Lance and his friends and Kogane are royalty. 

The thought offers no comfort.

“No, no, don’t do that.” Lance says, smiling despite his discomfort. “It’s no big deal really.”

“Please, sir. Let us celebrate our victory.” The man says, still kneeling. Lance shifts where he stands, feeling vaguely like a caged animal. 

“Maybe just one night?” Hunk whispers, and he gives Lance puppy dog eyes that never fail to melt Lance to the core. Lance sighs in defeat. 

“One night, and nothing too fancy or wild, we must leave in the morning.” Lance grumbles. A cheer rises among the people gathered and kneeling, and Lance knows he’s going to regret this. The four of them are whisked away and are taken to the barn, the last of the buildings that isn’t destroyed, and a feast is set up in record breaking time.


	20. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the feast.

Lance groans awake with a headache to kill. He must have gotten absolutely trashed at that party, which had gotten way out of control way too fast. One minute they were calmly celebrating with a delicious small town feast, of course it was nothing like the royals eat but that’s to be expected. Then the next thing Lance knows, someone busted out the homemade brew of ale and moonshine, and that’s all he remembers. 

Lance squints his eyes open against the light coming in from the barn door, where he and his friends must have slept. Unless somehow Lance had passed out in a barn? He has no memory of the night before, except the flash of a memory of hands in his hair, and warm lips against his own. So, he got laid?

_Nice._

Lance eases off the haystack he was sinking into, brushing off hay from his clothes and out of his hair as he searches for the lucky lad or lady he got to spend the night with. All he sees is another crushed dent in the hay beside him where whoever they are must have been asleep, and a clearly charred hole in the side wall across from him. He goes to get up when he spots a little piece of red fabric peeking from behind the haystack. Lance reaches down, not lifting onto his feet, but nearly face planting with the effort and grabs the red fabric.

As he unfolds it he realizes it’s a red bandana, kind of frayed at the edges, obviously well loved and well worn. 

He debates on whether he should just leave it or try to find the owner, or he could always keep it for himself as a memorabilia or something. Don’t know why he would, he doesn’t even remember what that person looked like. Lance shrugs and folds it up, sticking it in his coat pocket so he can try to find the young lad or lady who owns it before they leave.   
Lance stumbles out of the barn, still a little unsteady on his feet, squinting against the morning sun. Running his tongue over his teeth he makes his way back towards the village square to try and locate his friends. 

Well his friends and Kogane anyways. 

Lance drags his aching body down the dirt path to the town square, his body feeling like crap from yesterday’s bruises and scrapes. He would ask for Pidge to heal him but he doesn’t want to bother her with his minor injuries. Not many people are awake just yet, the sun barely peeking over the fields of corn and the distant trees. Lance is just used to rising with the sun. 

His first idea is to try the barn they made their home base. 

As he gets closer and closer, he sees the aftermath of both the fight and the party. The buildings in the village aren’t destroyed, but the local smith and woodcutters will be getting a lot of work for a while. Lance makes a note to leave behind some gold so they don’t make themselves broke trying to rebuild. Meanwhile there’s a few drunk people kind of sprawled around snoring away. One woman even still has a half empty bottle of ale in her hand. 

Lance swipes it up and takes a few good swallows to help ease his headache. 

He walks slowly towards the home base barn, enjoying the almost eerie silence in the village before everyone starts waking up. He reaches the barn and the scene there is both wild and strangely endearing. People are sprawled all across the floors of the barn and up in it’s loft. The cutest thing he’s ever seen though, is back in the far corner of the barn where all the hay had been pushed into. On it is a huge pile of children. Limbs intertwined, hair tangled, drool flowing from their wide open, snoring mouths missing baby teeth. 

And in the midst of it all, sort of the centerpiece of this sleeping children's dogpile, is Pidge curled up on their side with a little smile on their face. 

Lance smiles gently at the haystack full of children before easing out of the barn doors and taking a stroll through the square. Lance may be sore, with a blasting hangover, and magic exhaustion wearing the edges of his magic, but he’s extremely content at this moment in time. He hums the old ballad of the girl who befriended the serpent underneath his breath as he walks, slowly drinking from the bottle of ale that was almost empty anyways. 

“Why are you up so early McClain?” 

Lance sighs as he recognizes that voice, belonging to none other than Kogane himself. Lance turns to face him, and spots Kogane lounging precariously on a wooden stand where their horses are tied, grazing calmly in the nearby grass. He has an apple in his hand, and a knife in the other cutting chunks out of the fruit. Kogane pops another slice into his mouth, turning his head to look at Lance with a strange expression. 

There’s something about his eyes that say he knows something Lance doesn’t, and Lance doesn’t like that look. 

“Could say the same to you.” Lance responds. Kogane shrugs dismissively and Lance rolls his eyes and keeps walking. He’s not surprised when he hears boots smacking dirt and footsteps behind him. Lance glances sideways at Kogane as they walk beside each other, Kogane still chowing down on an apple, and Lance casually drinking the bottle of ale. 

“I woke up with the sun, you?” Kogane says. 

“Always do. The hours just before the morning dawn are the only quiet hours on my ship.” Lance replies. He doesn’t know why he’s even bothering with all this small talk, but the quiet of the morning makes him not want to be enemies. He just wants to be walking in the sunrise with good company. Since Kogane is the only one who seems to be awake at this hour, Lance will settle for walking with him instead of someone far more pleasant.

“Same here.” Kogane mumbles. There’s a long stretch of silence as they reach the corn field they rode through to reach town. “Uh so. What were you humming back there? Anything I might know?” 

Lance scoffs at the idea. 

“No you probably don’t know it. It’s an old ballad from where I’m from.” Lance says. He goes to say more but he bites his tongue, unsure if he should be speaking of it with Kogane of all people. 

“An old Altean ballad?” Kogane asks. Lance doesn’t answer for a moment.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about.” 

“Olkari? Balmeran?” Kogane presses. 

“I’m not answering your question.” 

“So Daibazalee.” 

“Dude, stop pressing.” Lance warns. Kogane raises his hands in surrender, slipping another chunk of apple into his mouth. 

“What’s it about?” 

Lance ponders if he should answer that, and he must take too long because he can hear Hunk yelling his name from back towards the main village area. Kogane almost pouts when Lance does a u-turn and starts walking back towards town. 

“Fine, don’t tell me. I was just wondering.” Kogane says, this time grumbling like a scolded child. Lance laughs at him as they round the last bend of the corn and walk back into the village square. 

“There you are. Oh hey Keith.” Hunk says warmly as they approach. Lance rolls his eyes. It was only a handful of days ago Hunk didn’t trust him, and was even a little afraid of him. Now apparently he’s best buds with the Dragon. Well, at least Hunk won’t suddenly switch sides when this is all over and stand against Lance by Kogane’s side. He’s too loyal.

“What did you need? Something wrong?” Lance asks. Hunk shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and promptly readjusting his headband when he moves it. 

“No, the village people are just all starting to wake up, and I figured it would be best if we left early to get some distance closed to our destination.” Hunk says, thankfully not revealing much about their plans to the Dragon. Kogane seems to notice too.

“Which would be where exactly?” 

“Nunya.” Lance says. 

He smirks at Kogane, and then his day was made perfect as a confused looking Kogane says, “What’s Nunya? Is that an Altean village or something?”

Hunk and Lance share an astonished look, and then Hunk’s eyes widen as Lance grins wickedly. Hunk shakes his head at him with pleading eyes, most likely trying to protect Kogane’s almost childlike naivete. Lance turns back to a clueless Kogane, who is looking between them with wariness. 

“Nunya business.”

Kogane still looks confused for a second, mouthing the words ‘nunya business’ and then his eyes narrow in a glare. Lance cracks up laughing as he walks back towards the barn where everyone was asleep. There’s a good couple of men and women already getting to work on rebuilding. He watches as the deceased are carried by another group, and as they pass, people cry and cross their hearts for the loss. Lance frowns at the procession, but he’s glad when he only counts around four losses. At least they got here in time to prevent this from being a huge masacre. 

“I wish there was something we could do for them.” Kogane whispers between them. Lance glances back to see a dark guilt on his face. Lance wonders if he’s thinking this is his fault for stopping Lance back in the forest. 

“Just be thankful we got here in time to stop any more deaths from happening.” Lance says, trying to make him feel better. 

“We could have saved them all though.” Kogane whispers, his voice strained. Lance stops in his tracks and Kogane, who had been walking behind him and Hunk, runs into Lance’s back. Lance locks his eyes on Kogane’s making sure he has the Dragon’s utmost attention. 

“This was not anyone’s fault but those who had attacked. Next time we’ll be faster.” Lance stresses, and then continues walking. 

“We?” 

Lance glances over his shoulder. “Well, you seem to be adamant on sticking around. I mean you had completely free reign last night, and yet here you are. I don’t know why, I don’t care, but if you’re staying then yes, you are part of the ‘we’.” 

Lance picks up his pace, straying from the two of them. He can hear Hunk’s quiet voice, but he doesn’t hear any words. He walks into the barn to find Pidge playing with the kids while a few parents watch with fond smiles. Lance watches for a moment himself, smiling as Pidge pretends to look for the kids clearly giggling beneath the tables they had used for the feast last night. 

“It is always so amazing to see how much kids can brighten even dark days.” Someone says to his left, and Lance looks to find the man who insisted on the celebration watching the kids with his own smile. The man looks at Lance for a second before looking back at the kids. “I just wanted to thank you again for coming to help us. This day would be far darker if not for you and your friends.”

“It wasn’t even a question when I smelled the fire. There’s no reason to thank us, we were just glad that we got here before it was too late.” Lance says in reply, setting a hand on the man’s shoulders. Lance never even learned the man’s name. “However, we must be going now. But before we leave, I want to give you something.” 

Lance digs into his coat pocket, pulling the pouch full of gold coins out of it’s hidden pocket. He doesn’t even bother to count it out, because he gives all of it to the man. 

“Use it to rebuild, and maybe build some sort of defences. Or at least somewhere hidden and safe where you all can retreat to should something like this happen again.” Lance says. The man looks into the pouch and sucks in a harsh breath. Lance walks away before the man can refuse the offering, waving Pidge down. “Pidge let’s go!”

Pidge looks up with disappointment saying, “Aw, already?” She slumps towards him as she waves goodbye to the kids.

“Sir please this too much.” The man says, trying to hand Lance the pouch back, but Lance adeptly dodges and yells out his goodbyes to everyone. He and Pidge meet up with Hunk and Kogane, who have the horses watered and fed and ready to ride by the time they get there. 

Except now there’s four horses?

“Kogane _please_ tell me you did _not_ steal a _horse_ from these good people.” Lance sighs out as he approaches. Kogane looks at him with indignation, and puffs up like a fish. 

“I didn’t steal him, they gave him to me!” 

“Uh huh, come on, give these people back their horse.” Lance says, clicking his tongue and snapping his fingers at Kogane like he’s a dog. 

“Lance, he didn’t steal it, they gave it to us so none of us had to share a horse on our journey.” Hunk calls out, hauling a saddle up onto the horse in question, his tone as calm as ever. Lance huffs at him. 

“Fine, come on, we’re burning daylight.” Lance relents, climbing up onto his sweet mare he’s affectionately named Rosebud, for the white mark on her cheek looking vaguely like a flower. If you squint _really_ hard that is.


	21. Campfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance asks Keith why he stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who is following along with this story! Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and kudos, it truly makes me glad to know my story is making people happy!

It takes them another day and a half to reach the mountains, and Lance got zero sleep to show for it. Now that all the excitement and chaos with that village has worn off, he’s had time to think about what happened right before. The way he had seen the village _before_ ever reaching it. How he could hear the screams, smell the fire, see the distorted, inhuman figures attacking the innocent and defenseless. 

He can’t figure out the how, or why, he just knows it happened. 

He’s also had time to think back and try to figure out if this had been a one time occurance, or if he’s had this sort of thing happen before. This _premonition_ or whatever. Thinking back, he remembers seeing Pidge get hurt by Kogane’s fire moments before it happened. So that’s two times. Were there others? And how can he see things that haven’t happened yet? That’s not water magic, so how? How can he see the future?

It’s not an unheard of ability, though it’s more associated with legend and stories than with actual people. 

There’s stories of people who used a magic called Spirit, a rare magic he read about once but he knows nothing about, just that it’s a rare thing with not much known about it, where they could see snippets of the future. 

The most famous person in history, or at least on this side of the sea, is a woman a few hundred years ago who foretold a war that would decimate the entirety of this side of the world, to the point where it would become inhabitable. She told it all in such detail she could point to the exact men and women who would give birth to the people who would destroy this side of the world before those people were even born. She knew the names the parents would give the child, what the child would look like, and how they would participate in the destruction. 

She knew everything about the war, except the outcome. 

No one believed her for a very long time, but she went public with her visions, and the world watched as they, one detail at a time, came to fruition. The people who believed in her visions grew and grew and grew, until it was almost too late. At the last moment, the governments of both countries were overthrown in a coup and that’s how the kingdoms of today began so long ago. 

They say that on her deathbed, she foretold another war far down the line between the same two countries, for the same exact reasons, that would destroy life as we know it. And Lance wonders if the brewing war now is what she had talked about. Her name was revered through the ages, and she’s known as the Word of the Gods, Priestess Roya. Lance remembers this woman because he had to do research on it when he was still in schooling, back before he became a prince, back before he fled with his family to Altea. 

She’s the only person in recorded history who could see the future. 

Maybe Lance is just imagining things. There’s no possible way those stories were true, just as there’s no possible way Lance can see the future like she did. It’s just impossible. Spirit magic hasn’t been witnessed in centuries, scholars believe the magic, like the priestess, is just a myth. 

Lance must just be imagining things.

Lance yawns, the rocking of his mare as she walks making him dreary and tired even more than he was when everyone woke up from sleep he never got. He wonders, if Spirit Magic exists for real, then could he have Spirit magic too? Having more than one magic isn’t unknown but it’s rare and seamingly draining on the person when they use their second affinity, since it’s not their strongest. He knows Allura can wield water and fire, but she rarely uses either of them because they drain her. He wonders what her true affinity is. In all the time he’s known her she never said anything about it to him. 

The group is silent as the trees start thinning and they can see the mountain range in the distance, blotting out the morning sun. 

Lance pulls out the map he marked with the location of the tunnels. It’s a small map, only depicting the mountain range and not the rest of either country. Lance hasn’t needed to look at it because he’s known their heading up until now. He steers Rosebud with his thighs as he raises the map, trying to see exactly the point of the mountains they’re looking at. 

“We’re going to the mountains?” Kogane asks. Lance sighs and glances over his shoulder with a glare. Kogane raises his hands in surrender and shuts up. 

Lance picks out which part of the range they're headed to as the trees turn thin and brush raises high. He rolls up the map and sticks it back into his pocket, his fingers brushing something soft. He pauses in shock as he brings out the red fabric he had found the morning they left the village. The morning after he had apparently gotten laid.

“Whatcha got there Lance?” Hunk asks, speeding his horse up to a trot to ride side by side as the path widens. The worn foot and hoof path is beginning to break apart with grass and flowers, so soon they’ll be treading rougher ground. 

“Oh, it’s just something I found.” Lance mutters, holding it out to Hunk. Hunk reaches out to grab the fistful of faded red fabric to run his fingers over it. There’s a choking sound behind him and both he and Hunk glance back at Kogane. He coughs into his fist, not looking at either of them. 

“Sorry, frog in my throat. Don’t mind me.” Kogane says, his voice breaking a little and he coughs again. A chill runs over Lance’s spine, the wind picking up for a second to chill them all. 

“Here ya go.” Hunk says, handing back the bandana. Lance tucks it back into his coat pocket, gently running the softness of it between his fingers before grabbing the reins again. 

“So.” Pidge drawls, then yawns again. “Where to Lance?” 

Lance looks back up at the mountains steadily creeping closer. His eyes shift down the line again, seeking out the two mountains that are almost stacked on top of each other where the tunnels were created. There will be a little town down the way from the caved in opening where they can rest before following through on their mission. 

But since that’s another half a day’s ride, they need to make camp before sunset, and make the last leg of the trip tomorrow. 

“We’ll be camping in the woods tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll be resting for a day in the town closest to our destination. There, we’ll stock up on supplies and do some intel gathering.” Lance says, rolling the map back up and sticking back into his coat. 

“Sounds good to me. I can’t wait to sleep in a real bed.” Hunk sighs wistfully. 

“Agreed. And take a nice warm bath too.” Pidge pitches in. 

“I just want a seasoned meal.” Kogane mutters, then looks at Hunk. “Uh, no offense Hunk, you’re cooking is great.” 

“No offense taken, I didn’t pack any seasonings because I didn’t realize we would be hunting for our food in the woods.”

Lance scoffs at them both. “We? I’ve done all the hunting!”

“Oh so that’s why all the animals were so small.” Kogane teases. Lance jerks around on his horse with a glare at that statement.

“Okay okay, that’s enough you two.” Hunk says with amusement. 

They ride in a comfortable silence until they find a small clearing to make camp. It’s so small the trees still reach overhead and all of them have to sleep side by side to be around the fire, which has to be kept small to stay away from causing a forest fire. 

It’s a while after sunset when Lance finally asks.

“Kogane.” Lance says to get the man’s attention. He looks up from servicing his swords, which Hunk made Lance let him keep them after the whole situation with that village. Kogane looks up from his swords, giving Lance his full attention. “Why are you still here?”

Kogane’s face creases in anger as he says, “Excuse me?”

“No I’m serious.” Lance says, keeping his tone even. “You’ve had plenty of chances to run away. You haven’t been tied up or anything for a few days now, and I was so plastered at that feast those villagers threw that I don’t remember anything, so why not run then? Or when everyone else is asleep? Why are you still here?”

Kogane’s face flashes through a range of expressions that pass by too fast for Lance to catch most of them, but he does spot a brief look of disappointment. Kogane sheathes his swords and puts away his whetstone, folding his hands in his lap when everything is out of the way. He’s silent for a moment before he huffs out a sigh. 

“It’s because I don’t want to go back yet.” Kogane says, offering no more than that. Luckily for Lance, his question asking protege is right there to nag Kogane for more information. 

“Why not?” Pidge asks. 

“A lot of reasons.” Kogane deflects, but Pidge doesn’t let up. 

“What are those reasons?” 

Kogane doesn’t answer as he absently grabs a stick, poking at the fire, occasionally tapping his finger and making the flame burn just a little bit hotter before dying down to a manageable size again. 

“It’s complicated.” He finally says in response. 

“Well, if you want to keep traveling with us without me attacking you everytime I lay eyes on you,” Lance says casually, freezing his fingertip and unfreezing it using the new way of using magic. “Then I suggest you uncomplicate it.” 

“You won’t trust me after I tell you.” 

“I don’t trust you now.” Lance fires back. Kogane huffs, blowing a lock of his black bangs out of his eye. 

“Fine. If you must know, I’ve been ordered by the Emperor to capture you and bring you to the court.” Kogane says. That makes Lance straighten up from his relaxed position against the tree. 

“Explain.” 

And he does. 

“After the last time I raided your ship, the Emperor was unimpressed with the loot I had gathered. He threatened me, then ordered me to bring you to him. I don’t know why or what he wants with you, I just know it’s in my best interest not to do as the Emperor demands.” Kogane explains. 

“And why is that?”

Kogane twists his lips to the side for a moment, looking at Hunk and Pidge respectively before raising his eyebrows at Lance. Somehow, Lance knows what that look means. Kogane is asking if they know he’s a double agent, so Lance minutely shakes his head. Kogane makes another expression Lance somehow can decipher, which asks if he can spill the beans. 

Lance shrugs. 

“Uh? What’s happening?” Hunk asks, looking between the two of them. Hunk has always had a sharp eye, especially when it comes to Lance. He’s not surprised the big guy caught on to their silent conversation. Pidge’s eyes dart between Lance, Kogane and Hunk and back again in confusion. 

“I’m confused.” Pidge announces, like it wasn’t obvious. 

“I’m a spy working for the Princess of Altea.” Kogane says, being more than just a little blunt. 

_Jeez Kogane, way to just lay it all out there, no sugar coating at all._

“Allura?” Hunk asks. 

“No the other one. Romelle. I started working for her about the same time I became a pirate under the command of Emperor Zarkon. Which was about a year ago now.” Kogane says. “The only reason I started being a privateer for the Empire in the first place was because he took my brother hostage, claiming he was being imprisoned for a crime, which he never committed.”

“Why was he taken prisoner?” Hunk asks. “And what does that have to do with the Emperor wanting Lance?”

“Shiro, my brother, used to have very loud opinions about the way the kingdom was being run.” Kogane explains. “When Shiro was taken, I fought back against the soldiers, and they took me prisoner too. Shiro managed to do something to get me out of jail, but he ended up being put in the Arena as a result.” 

“What’s the Arena?” Pidge asks. 

“Something bad.” Lance says before Kogane can answer, his eyes lowering to glare into the fire. “It’s a very bad place, where Daibazalee prisoners are forced to fight beasts and each other to the death.”

“That’s so awful.” Hunk whispers, eyes teary and hands covering his mouth in horror. Lance and Kogane share a grim look. They both know Lance sugar coated the explanation. Fighting to the death is not even the worst of the Arena. 

“But wait.” Pidge says, eyes wide with horror too. Just like when Lance had woken up in that barn and asked for a status report. She’s way too young to be a part of, or even know about any of this, but if she is determined to stick with Lance, she’ll have to face the horrors of the world. If she hasn’t seen her own already, and something tells Lance she has. Something about the look in her eyes. 

“If he has Shiro imprisoned in the Arena, why work for him?” She asks. 

“It’s the deal I made. In return for keeping Shiro out of the Arena’s death matches, I have to do whatever it takes to supply the Empire with more money. And the solution to that was piracy, stealing from others to give to Zarkon. I can’t even take my own cut. Any food I eat has to be fished out of the sea or stolen from the markets. And I can’t even trust my own crew because they’re all soldiers loyal to the Empire.” Kogane says with a thin line of his mouth. He doesn’t look happy about what he’s saying, and for good reason. He’s just as much a prisoner as his brother is. 

“That still doesn’t explain why the Emperor wants Lance.” Hunk says. 

“My guess?” Kogane says, making the fire burn bright again before letting it die down. It seems like an almost subconscious use of magic. “He probably wants to break the deal with me, send his best fighter, Shiro, back into the Arena, and have McClain take my place. One way or another.”

“He’d have to break me first.” Lance mutters. Kogane doesn’t respond to that, but Lance does see his lips twitch up into a ghost of a smile. 

“The reason why I don’t just turn McClain over to the Emperor,” Kogane says, looking at Lance with a determined look in his eyes. “Is because I want to give you a job.”

This catches Lance’s attention and his eyebrows raise involuntarily. “Oh? And what job is that?”

“Help me break my brother, and all the other prisoners we can, out of the Arena and take them to Altea as refugees.”


	22. Rescue Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith explains the plan of rescue using his magic.

McClain is silent, face blank.

Keith waits anxiously for McClain to say whether or not he would agree to help Keith break his brother out of the Arena. He knows without McClain’s magic and crew, Keith’ll be hard pressed to get out of the Arena alive himself, let alone with prisoners and his brother. 

The only give away to McClain’s expression is the twitching of his right eyebrow.

Keith manages to last a few seconds in the silence before he can’t take it any longer. “Well?” 

“I’m waiting for you to convince me.” McClain says with a shrug. It throws Keith off when he says that. McClain is a goody goody, wouldn’t he _love_ to free prisoners who are in such horrible conditions? Especially since he already _knows_ what the Arena is like? Though how he knows is beyond Keith, but it’s clear that he knows.

“What do you mean?” Keith asks slowly.

“What’s the plan? I’m not going on a suicide mission for someone I don’t know.” McClain says, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Keith blanks for a moment on what he had planned. And how to explain it. It’s kind of hard to explain when they don’t know what the compound looks like. Keith looks at the ground around them and sees there’s no dirt for Keith to draw the plan on. 

Probably for the best, Keith isn’t the best artist. 

He rubs at his chin as he tries to find a way to explain so that McClain isn’t confused. Keith’s eyes lock onto the small campfire and an idea comes into his head. Since Keith used his magic to create the fire, it’s inherently connected to his soul. It’s why everytime he twitches or moves, the fire moves with him, which is perfect. 

Keith stands up from his place on the grass and sweeps his hand through the top of the flames, grabbing the peak of the fire in his palm and deciding to use it to depict what he’s imagining in his head. The fire will do all the work since it’s connected to him, he just has to visualize what he wants the fire to do. 

“Alright this is the Emperor’s castle here.” Keith says as the fire takes shape in the form of Zarkon’s castle. It’s a veritable fortress, no weak points, and believe him, he’s looked. There are no blindspots, no holes in the defenses. It’s impenetrable. But that doesn’t matter. The fire turns the image of the castle around, the fire suspended above Keith’s hand. 

With his other hand he takes another handful of the campfire and adds it to the first handful. 

The fire creates a large structure just outside the castle walls, which is the Arena. “This back here is the Arena.” 

Keith closes his hand and the image disperses back into a regular flame, and when he opens his hand again the image takes on a new shape, which is the inside of the Arena. “This is what the inside of the Arena looks like.” Keith says, giving as much detail as the fire will allow. He has two little tiny flames in the center of the Arena representing two prisoners in the middle of a death match. 

“The time when the Arena is the easiest to infiltrate is when there’s a match going on.” Keith explains. He holds the image like that while he forms more tiny flames to represent the guards, adding a little more magic to turn those flames blue so they stick out. “The blue flames represent where the guards are stationed during the matches. As you can see the guards are pretty heavy at the matches to prevent the prisoners from escaping or attacking the patrons.”

“I thought you said the Arena is the least guarded during the matches?” Pidge asks. 

“The matches are guarded heavily themselves, but the cells aren’t.” Keith explains. He shifts the images to extend out, grabbing more flame from the campfire, then blowing towards the fire to make it get hotter and not go completely out. The Arena has a tunnel system that connects to both sides of the Arena where the opponents first enter. It has three different tunnels leading off, two of which are for beasts, the last one holding the prisoners. 

“These three tunnels only have one way out, and that’s here.” Keith says, pointing towards the crossroads where all the tunnels connect. In the center is where the Guard station is located, and the guard station has a door behind three different walls to keep prisoners from getting to it easily. Keith closes his hand and opens it again, this time focusing on the guard station. The guard station up against the walls of the Arena itself, which is where the doors go. The guard station is split into four different sections. Keith explains as he shifts the images around, adding blue flames to represent guards. 

The front end, where the guards at the station interact with the guards escorting prisoners and beasts. The guards who work the front end direct the escorts to whichever door or cell they need to escort the prisoners. They shift the prisoners through the cells every day so that no one has a chance to dig their way out without the guards knowing. There’s always one empty cell, at the very least, and everytime a new cell is emptied it’s checked over thoroughly for any ways for a prisoner to escape. 

Then there’s the two center sections. These two sections connect to each other, with only one of them connecting to the front end, while the other one connects to the back end. This makes it so if you want through the door to freedom you have to go through four different layers of highly trained guards. 

The last section is the back end, which is where the guards spend their off time. So that room is almost always full of guards. 

“When there’s a match, over half of the guards are called to the Arena to guard the.” Keith says taking away half the blue flames. “And even though there's still plenty of guards, they’re more spread thin, having to constantly watch the other prisoners to make sure they don’t try to escape.”

“I see that.” McClain says, leaning forward now to look at Keith’s fire images. He looks genuinely interested now, and Keith will take that as a good sign so he keeps going. He holds the image for a moment before letting the fire he has in his grip return to the campfire and taking a seat. Using his magic like that drained him a little, but he’s trained to endure far more than that, so he just needs a moment to rest.

“Our first obstacle will be getting through the city. It’s crawling with soldiers loyal to the empire. I know of a few ways to get around that though, so it’s hardly a major issue. Our second obstacle will be getting someone in the Arena where the matches are taking place.” Keith explains, and before he can continue Pidge asks him a question.

“Why do we need someone in the Arena?” 

“A few reasons. The first reason is to make sure Shiro isn’t in the middle of a match. The second reason is to give the rest of us a warning for when the guards are responding to the alarms.” Keith says. 

“Alarms? You didn’t say anything about alarms.” McClain demands. 

“That’s obstacle number three. It’s the only thing I have no way of preventing. In the front end of the guard station is a pulley mechanism, one that, when pulled, rings bells all across the Arena. I tested this out one day, and gave the guards at the station enough reason to think there was an escape or rescue in progress, and the response time for backup was less than three minutes.” Keith folds his hands underneath his chin. “That means either we need enough firepower to ward off a couple dozen guards and soldiers, or we need to take that guard station out first.”

“I vote the guard station. It just seems like the easier path.” Hunk says. 

“Agreed.” Pidge adds. 

“That’s only if McClain agrees.” Keith says, eyeing up the Serpent expectantly. He looks deep in thought, one hand cupping his chin as the other runs a stream of water around his fingers. Finally he looks up and locks eyes with Keith. McClain has really blue eyes, like the sea on a stormy night. Dark, dangerous, and hard not to fall into and sink to the depths.

“I’ll make you a deal.” McClain says. 

“Okay then.” Keith responds slowly when McClain doesn’t elaborate. 

“I’ll help you, but I have two, no, three conditions.” McClain says, leaning back against his tree casually, freezing the stream of water on his pointer finger and making the tip long and sharp. He crosses his arms and deliberately taps that very sharp finger to grab Keith’s attention. It’s a fairly common pirate tactic. During a negotiation, make subtle but very deliberate threatening movements and it’ll distract someone who isn’t prepared, fools who think they can outsmart a good pirate.

Keith is no fool, and he’s a decent pirate, so it’s not working. 

“I’m listening.” Keith finally responds, and a small smirk quirks at McClain’s lips when Keith follows his example. Keith relaxes on his hand, since he doesn’t have a tree to lean against, and he taps his free hand against his bent leg, and every time he taps his finger the flames get hotter and bigger. 

“Condition number one. You have to help us on the mission Romelle gave me.” McClain says. Keith shrugs.

“That’s a given, but my condition for yours is that you actually tell me what it is the mission is since you’ve been so adamant not to tell me.” Keith responds. McClain shrugs back at him and Keith will take that as an agreement. 

“Second condition. The rescue plan has too many holes. You let me make my own plan and we follow that one if it’s better. Think you can handle that?” McClain taunts with a mocking voice, as if Keith is a child. 

“Fine. And the third?”

McClain smiles and says, “When this is all over, I get to take _you_ prisoner. You’ve screwed my ships over too many times to not be repaid.”

“No way.” Keith responds without thinking. He was forced to! He never killed anyone on his crew when he raided Lance’s ships- wait, ships? As in more than one? “Wait, ships? You have more than one?”

McClain rolls his eyes, but Pidge and Hunk both look towards Lance with shock. 

“You have more than one ship?” Pidge asks. 

“Guys I have ten ships under my command, all with Captains I trust with my life.” McClain explains. Ten ships!? And they’re _all_ pirate ships!? This guy has ten pirate ships!? 

_That’s-_

_That’s kinda hot._

_Maybe I should have more pirate ships too._

“So? I guess since you don’t want to be my prisoner, I guess I can’t help you.” McClain finally says in the shocked silence, knocking him out of his daze. 

“Lance, that’s not right. We should help-” Hunk starts to say, but McClain holds up a hand to shut him up. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that McClain is Hunk’s Captain, and therefore the boss of him, since they act more like friends than captain and subordinate. 

“Hush now, this is a Captain’s conversation.” 

“I won’t be your prisoner but I can pay you back some other way.” Keith says. This claims McClain’s interest again, making him look away from Hunk with a raised eyebrow. 

“Do go on.” McClain says, leaning forward with his interest, eyes locked with Keith’s and keeping him hostage. “I would love to know what ideas you have to pay me back.”

“Gold. I can give you-”

“Nope, not interested.” McClain says and leans back again, looking away and sighing like he’s bored. He shifts to lay down on his back and closes his eyes, peeking open one eye to say, “Gotta give me something better.” 

Then he closes his eye again and turns his head towards the sky. Keith can tell that he’s losing him, and he needs to do something, anything that interests McClain to get him to help.

In the back of his mind he knows this is probably just a part of his game to get what he wants out of the negotiation, but Keith is desperate for McClain’s help. He has no one else to help him other than his mother, and she may be a fire mage but she’s not as powerful as Keith.

“What do you want?” Keith finally asks. McClain’s lips twitch into another half smirk, and it confirms it’s a part of his game, but Keith is new to the game and he doesn’t know all the ins and outs. 

“Oh, many things.” McClain says wistfully. He turns onto his side, propping his head up on his hand, and his eyes sweep down Keith in a once over that makes his ears flush. Is McClain insinuating he wants Keith to pay with his body? 

Well, it wouldn’t be the _worst_ thing. 

McClain has very pretty eyes. A soft but sharp face unmarred with scars. His hair is just the right length to grab onto. His body isn’t that bad either, if Keith says so himself. Too bad he ruins that pretty face of his with his bad attitude and loud mouth. 

Well, ‘bad attitude’ only applies when he’s talking to Keith it seems.

That makes sense, Keith _has_ attacked his ship (ships apparently) multiple times and won. 

“Okay, what do you want me to do to pay you back though?” Keith asks, because he’s not gonna jump to conclusions and embarrass himself. No way in hell. He doesn’t want to have to face the awkward and embarrassing aftermath if he’s wrong. He’ll play dumb like he has no idea what McClain is talking about.

_Just like he did about that red bandana._


	23. Conditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gives his last condition, he and Kogane have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I just realized the entire chapter was in italics lol

Lance can’t believe he’s actually getting his way so easily.

He was expecting Kogane to put up more of a fight but he isn’t. Is he really that desperate to have Lance’s help? He would have thought Kogane didn’t need any help, what with his powerful fire magic and all. He’s had plenty of reports from his other ships about the carnage Kogane leaves in his wake after battles. Not necessarily in deaths, most of the time Kogane’s targets can get out of battle with no casualties. Injuries, sure, plenty of those, but usually no deaths.

The damage to the ships though is astronomically high. 

What _does_ he want as payment for having to deal with all of his captains’ grievances about _The Dragon?_ Lance ponders for a moment on what would be a good enough reward for helping Kogane. Though honestly, he would have done it for free. Of course Lance _is_ a pirate, and pirates always look for another chance to make money or to have someone in their debt for future needs. 

Ooh, that could be good.

If he had Kogane in his debt- and as a pirate Kogane will never disobey the law of life debts- then he could save the opportunity for a day he really needs it. Lance looks at Kogane as he sits waiting anxiously for Lance’s response. Pidge and Hunk both watch him as well, waiting for Lance to make up his mind.

As he looks at Kogane, he tries to will the Change. The strange visions, the premonitions, whatever it is they are.  
It takes a moment but finally the image of Kogane seated before him, firelight dancing across his face, changes into a new image. It’s hard to figure out what’s going on at first. Everything is blurry, like when he saw the vision of him and Kogane fighting back to back, where he’s the catalyst to Lance surviving a future battle.

The background is blurred so much he can’t see where the vision takes place, or when. 

But in the foreground of what he sees, he sees Kogane in the midst of a fight, one against a very large man with a missing eye and a cruel smile. He sees himself in the background, slumped over in a strange man’s arms, seemingly unconscious. This one has a scar across his nose, and a prosthetic arm that looks vaguely human in shape. Lance watches as Pidge, Hunk, and strangely, Allura as well, join the fight against this one man. 

The vision seems to rewind, like that same vision of him and Kogane fighting back to back. 

This time he watches as Kogane forgoes the fight with the man, leaving the fighting to Pidge, Hunk and Allura. This time, Kogane sprints right towards the man with the nose scar, pulls him to his feet, and then the two of them run and never look back. 

The vision ends, but Lance knows that in the second, his friends face defeat.

“So?” Kogane asks again. “What do you want as payment?” 

"I want,” Lance begins. “A life debt.”

"A what?” Kogane asks in shock, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Why would you want that of all things?”

"There will be a day,” Lance begins. “When you have a choice. If you have a life debt to me, then you will make the correct choice.”

"And,” Kogane says, looking skeptical. “What choice would that be?” 

Like when he sees the trials he puts his crew members through, he knows he should not tell Kogane that choice until the day is past. He’s gonna _have_ to talk to someone about this. Perhaps Advisor Coran, he’s always been a kind man, full of wild stories and jokes. He’s pretty wise, and he’s the leading expert on the science of magic, so perhaps he can help Lance figure things out. 

"It’s best not to question things when it comes to Lance.” Hunk says in answer to Kogane’s question. “He always seems to know things he shouldn’t. It’s hard to explain, but you’ll come to notice it too.”

"Is that so?” Kogane asks, interest lacing the seemingly innocent question. 

"Yeah.” Pidge adds. “Like this one time. He was training me and another crewmate on how to use a sword-”

Lance rolls onto his back as Pidge and Hunk share stories of Lance’s apparent ability to know things. So it seems there have been times before, he just doesn’t remember. Then, of course, there’s always the possibility that him knowing certain things was just coincidence. 

Man, even Lance is confused as hell about all of this. 

The night goes by quickly after he and Kogane make their deal, officially sealed after three stories have been told by Pidge and Hunk with a handshake. Lance’s hands almost burned from the warmth emitting from Kogane’s and he isn’t sure if that was on purpose or if the man’s body heat is naturally that hot.

He _is_ a fire mage, so it wouldn’t be strange if it was natural.

Then again, the same could be said for it _not_ being natural. 

Lance falls asleep sometime in the middle of a story Kogane is telling, one he recognizes as an old folktale from Daibazal lore. He’s asleep too soon to pick just which one it is, but Lance knows it vaguely. He wakes up with the dawn, right after Kogane it seems, as he’s already sitting up and servicing his swords.

That’s one reason Lance prefers guns, they don’t take quite so much maintenance as a sword does. 

Lance stretches with a yawn, stretching his body as far as it can go and delighting when his back pops, chasing away the stiffness that comes from sleeping on the ground. Since it’s only a half a day’s ride from the village, and that’s if they take their time, he figures he’ll allow Hunk and Pidge to sleep in for the first time since leaving his ship. 

“Morning.” Kogane grunts to him, cutting off a yawn himself as he finally puts his swords away. 

The morning light is still hardly breaching the skyline in the distance, so the sky is only just brighter than the midnight black it was mere minutes ago. Kogane has gone ahead and restarted the fire again, Lance notices, and he reaches his hands out to warm them on the flame.

His body shivers from the cold, which is a cold he never truly escapes. 

"Morning.” Lance mutters back. He stands up with another stretch and another shiver when his peasant shirt shifts up to expose his stomach. He tugs the shirt back down and digs into his pack for his coat, slipping it on as he walks towards his mare, Rosebud, so that he makes sure she’s properly groomed before the ride later.

"Want me to wake the others?” Kogane asks after a few minutes of awkward silence. Lance gets why it’s weird for Kogane, it’s weird for Lance too. He still viewed Kogane as an enemy until last night, even knowing his double agent status. Knowing that they are working together, as if they’re partners, even after this little mission is over with, well it kind of sets Lance off balance. 

“No.” Lance finally responds, still running a brush across the mare’s back to knock off dirt. “Let them sleep a little longer. I have a feeling they’ll be needing the rest.”

Kogane hums at that and they fall back into an uncomfortable silence. 

Speaking of rest, last night was the best sleep he’s gotten since they captured, released, and befriended Kogane. Sure his dreams were, well, they were of things that haunt him nightly, but he still feels more rested than he has in days. 

“Get a good sleep?” Kogane asks, his voice kind of faltering at first. Lance purses his lips and shrugs.

“Sort of.”

“Bad dreams?”

Lance sighs, resigning himself to having this awkward conversation until Hunk wakes up to take over. He was always the best at clearing up tension and awkwardness with just his sunny disposition and maybe a few kind words. Pidge on the other hand, she causes the tension Hunk has to clear up nine times out of ten. Such polar opposites, and yet the two of them seem to have clicked far more than either of them has clicked with anyone else on the ship other than Lance.

Except Cook. Cook clicks with everyone.

Lance stows away the brush and returns to the fire, warming him up a little to stave off his natural cold. He’s always cold, even out on the open sea with the sun rays beating down on his neck. 

"More like, strange dreams.” Lance finally says in response. 

“What are they about?” Kogane says, sounding genuinely curious instead of awkward. It helps ease the slight tension between them, talking as if they’re life long friends catching up instead of enemies freshly turned uneasy allies. 

Uneasy in the sense that it’s strange, and not in the sense that Lance thinks he’ll be killed in his sleep when Kogane gets a split second of a chance.

“I don’t know.” Lance answers honestly. “I don’t remember them, but I know that they make me anxious. Like I’m supposed to be doing something, something important, only I don’t know what that something is.”

“Huh.” Kogane says, sounding less like an automatic ‘I don’t know what to say’ response and more like he found it funny.

“What?” Lance says, and he hates that he sounds defensive. Of course he is defensive, it’s not like he controls whether he remembers his dreams or not!

"Nothing, it’s just.” Kogane pauses for a moment, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. Lance notices that he does that sometimes when he and Lance actually have a moment to talk like normal people instead of rival pirate captains. Which is rare. “I know my brother, Shiro, used to say the same thing. That his dreams were trying to tell him he needs to do something but he doesn’t know what it is."

“Did he ever figure it out?” Lance asks with intrigue. 

"No, I don’t think he ever did. But he always said he’ll know what his dreams want him to know when the right moment comes. All he has to do is wait and be patient.” Kogane explains. His face is turned down towards the fire, which dances on his violet eyes like the fire is in his eyes rather than the physical world.

Well, seeing as the saying goes ‘the eyes are the window to the soul’ and he says he draws magic from his soul, perhaps that thought isn’t too far off.

"I have a question,” Lance says after a few long minutes of silence. Long enough that the sky's turned into a pink and purple and orange mix. “And feel free not to answer this one.” 

“I’m listening.” Kogane says, finally raising his head and removing the reflection of the campfire from his violet eyes. He looks at Lance expectantly, giving him his full attention.

“You’ve talked about your brother, but not your parents. Why?” Lance asks, and he’s broaching a subject that is way too personal, and it’s also not the question he wanted to ask. He wanted to ask about the magic, the kind that’s tied to the soul or whatever. For some reason though, his mouth picked out a less prominent question in his head and ran with it. 

Kogane laughs a little at that. “It’s complicated.” 

“I get it. Sorry.” Lance says, immediately backpedaling. Kogane laughs again. 

“No, I mean. It’s literally complicated. And actually you’ve kind of met my mother already.” Kogane says. Which, that was _not_ something Lance was expecting. He doesn’t know how to respond so instead he goes for a joke. 

"If I slept with her I promise it was not on purpose.” Lance teases. That gets a full blown snort, and a small bead of satisfaction settles strangely in his chest. He immediately chases it away. 

“No, I mean. She’s my First Mate. On my ship, she’s my First Mate.” Kogane explains. Lance tries to remember who the First Mate of the Dragon’s Fire was, and it takes a few moments but he puts a face to the question. A young woman with a rocker hairstyle, very tall, knee high boots that he has _personally_ experienced with the force of her kick, and two matching scars that go from mid cheekbone to the back of her neck. 

“Woah, _that’s_ your mother?” Lance says, and he doesn’t let Kogane answer before he keeps talking. “You mean, the woman with the weak fire magic but a hell of a kick and is a damn good swordswoman? _That_ woman is your mother?”

“The one and only.” Kogane says wryly. “She left when I was too little to remember, and my dad died soon after in a-” Kogane pauses and swallows. “In a house fire. I was in and out of foster homes when Shiro happened upon me, took me in, and raised me like we were brothers.”

“Sounds rough, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Kogane clears his throat with a weak smile. “What about yours?” 

Lance feels dread start to pool in his stomach. “My what?”

“Your family, your parents. Since we’re on the topic.”

Lance twists his lips together. “It’s complicated, and I do mean complicated. And something I don’t really talk about.”

Kogane’s face falls as he mutters out an ‘oh’ and they fall back into an uncomfortable silence. Lance squirms in his spot by the fire. He can’t go too deep into the details, but maybe he could scratch the surface. After all. Kogane answered him honestly but leaving out details, he can do the same. 

“My mother had four children before me, and I’m the only one who was born of a different father. We were poor, but we had each other, and that’s all we needed.” Lance starts, watching Kogane look up with renewed interest. “Not much to say on that front, other than the fact I had a step sister, a nephew, and a niece. My father on the other hand.”

Lance trails off as he tries to find a way to explain this without giving too much away. 

“My father decided I was useful to him as a legitimate son, so he took me from my family. Then I ran away when I was young, and a couple of other things happened, and then I ended up joining a pirate crew. One thing led to another and here we are.” Lance hopes that was enough detail to get the point across. 

“Huh, so we both had kind of shitty childhoods.” Kogane says. Lance is the one to snort out a laugh at that. He looks towards the sky, finding most of the pink and orange to have faded into a bright blue. Lance purses his lips and decides to let the two of them sleep just a little bit longer. 

What’s the rush after all.

“So. Wanna spar?” Kogane asks, drawing Lance’s attention again. He shrugs and nods, standing up from his place on the ground.

“Sure why not. Hand to hand, swords, magic?” Lance asks, and he already knows it won’t be a magic duel. Not enough space here. 

“How about swords. I don’t think our swords have ever crossed personally, usually our personal fights are mainly magic based.” Kogane says. Lance nods his okay and steps to his horse to grab his two swords. He stops Kogane from grabbing his own, handing one of his out him instead, and answering the silent question on his face.

“Your swords were made to be used at the same time because they’re dual swords. Both of these are made to be used either alone or with a small shield. This way the fight is more balanced.” Lance explains. “We’ll duel until someone draws first blood, and that means small cuts only. After that I need to go hunt for breakfast while you wake up Hunk and Pidge.”

“Sounds like our sparring will be short lived then. Prepare to lose McClain.” Kogane says with a smirk, shucking off his own coat (it has no sleeves, the sleeves covering his arms were from his red peasant shirt, why did Lance not notice this already? And why a _red_ peasant shirt?) and doing a few short stretches on his arms. 

Lance smiles back at the trash talk. “It’s really gonna damage your pride when I win isn’t it?”

“As if you could.” Kogane fires back as they both take their starting stance. 

Lance realizes a lot of differences in their fighting style long before their blades cross for the first time. For one, Kogane’s stance is loose, allowing the wild and hard to track movements Lance has witnessed from a distance. Lance, on the other hand, prefers a perfect form, allowing his transition movements to be clean and his defense hard to penetrate. 

This duel is gonna be _fun._


	24. Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and McClain duel against each other.

It’s been a long time since Keith had the chance to casually spar against someone. 

On his ship, he would spar with his mother when she wasn’t trying to, well, mother him, and he always manages to lose while learning something new. With Mcclain it’s different, and he can feel it the moment their blades make first contact.

McClain had given him a few moments to get a feel for the blade before they began, letting him accustom himself to an unfamiliar sword. 

Keith takes those moments seriously, using them to test the balance and the weight in his hands. This sword is slightly heavier than either of his dual swords, made stronger and thicker to withstand blows alone, whereas the dual blades are light weight, meant to share the clash of another weapon. Keith gets the hang of the weight soon enough. He won’t be nearly as skilled with this one compared to the dual blades, but he’ll manage. 

Besides, it puts them on even ground now. 

McClain is an accredited marksman throughout the four kingdoms, and his blade skills aren’t quite as sharp as his long range marksmanship. There are rumors that he can pin a butterfly by the wings from a hundred yards away, but Keith thinks that’s just rumors. No way someone could spot a butterfly from such a distance, let alone take aim and nail it in one shot. 

Their starting stances are immensely different. 

McClain has a sharp, almost statuesque stance, whereas Keith is all about fluidity. He can tell this duel will be one for the ages. McClain raises his sword, his sword hand waist level but the tip of the blade raised high. His off hand is tucked neatly against the small of his back, and his eyes are locked onto Keith’s. 

Keith eases into a low stance.

He keeps his knees bent just slightly, his non dominant hand out to his side for balance, his sword hand raised opposite to McClain’s. Hilt high, point low, but still level enough to meet Mcclain’s sword. 

“How shall we begin? If either of us were to count that person would have a slight advantage.” McClain says. Keith tilts his head in agreement and thinks for a moment before reaching to the ground with his empty hand and picking up a rock. 

“I throw this into the air and the moment it lands we begin?” Keith asks. McClain tilts his head in agreement, much like Keith had. Keith tosses the small rock into the air and waits. He doesn’t take his eyes away from McClain’s, but he does strain to hear when the rock lands. 

The moment, and he does mean the _moment,_ the rock hits the ground the both of them move in for the first strike. 

Both blades glide through the air, each aiming to cut the other, and like mirrored opposites he and Mcclain both move out of the way of the blades. 

_Huh,_ Keith thinks idly in the back of his mind. Guess they don’t fight too differently if they both moved to end the spar in one strike. Then again, where would the fun be in that? Keith wants this duel to last. 

They cross blades, once, twice, three times without ever moving their feet. Both of them back off for a moment.

“Well, this will be interesting.” McClain comments.

“Indeed. En guard.” Keith responds. The fight becomes intense quick, all the while the quiet of the morning filled with their back and forth banter. 

McClain lunges forward, trying to win the duel by cutting Keith’s arm, but Keith twists away. As he turns back toward his opponent, Keith swipes downward, and his sword catches on McClain’s shirt. The two of them back away, McClain inspecting the area to find no blood was drawn. 

“Close, but not quite Kogane. Gotta do better than that.” McClain taunts as he lifts his sword again. The two of them circle each other, testing each others’ swords with mocking taps. 

“No worries, I’m sure I’ll win soon.” Keith replies, leaping backwards to avoid a wild swing McClain made towards his chest. 

“If I didn’t know any better,” McClain says, dancing away as Keith strikes three times in rapid succession but not catching anything on his blade but wind. “I would think you were going easy on me.”

“More like drawing out my victory.” Keith smirks, catching McClain’s pant leg this time, but the material is thick. Ah, so this is the material that reflects blade attacks. Perhaps he’ll finagle the information on where he gets it out of McClain. Surely somewhere in Altea, perhaps the capital city even.

“You sound so confident, I would really hate to bruise that ego.” McClain fires back, pressing forward with aimed jabs towards Keith’s sides. The strikes force Keith to step backward continuosly and he if he was less aware of his surroundings, he would have been backed against a tree. 

“Good thing you won’t get the chance McClain.” Keith taunts, using the trees to his advantage and using one as a sheild. He has his back pressed against the bark as he alternates between striking blindly to his left and striking blindly to his right. There are flashes of steel as McClain tries the same move. 

McClain rounds the tree with a powerful swing towards his head, and Keith watches as the angle shifts mid swing to go less for a beheading and more for a small cut. 

Keith barely dodges, feeling the tug as some of his hair is caught on the blade is cut away. He ducks and rolls to the side, back to where they began the fight near the campfire. McClain doesn’t press, allowing Keith to regain his footing. 

Guess they both want this to last a little longer before they get serious. 

“Guys?” Hunk’s voice calls, coincidentally just as he and McClain cross blades again, locking against each other to get the upper hand. McClain is more wiry while Keith is more stout, so he has the advantage, pressing down on McClain with a gleeful grin. McClain almost fights like he was militarily trained, but the way he does it doesn’t look like any military training Keith has come into contact with. “Oh my god! Stop it! I thought we were friends now?”

Keith flicks his eyes to Hunk to realize he looks genuinely worried, shaking Pidge awake without looking away. 

McClain takes that moment to muster up enough strength to send Keith skidding away. He lowers his sword for a moment, swiping a hand through the sweat beading on his brow. “Chill out Hunk, it’s a spar, not a fight to the death.”

“Oh, who’s winning?” Hunk says with obvious relief.

Simultaneously, he and McClain both respond with “Me.”

McClain scoffs, readying into a new stance, one slightly looser than the first, but still tight and poised. “In your dreams Kogane.”

Keith smirks as he too readies into a new stance, this time standing straight but drawing his sword hand up to his face as if drawing back a bow. His other hand stays close to his waist but loose enough to allow him to make quick manuevors. “Which one of us has the cut shirt again? Oh right, that would be you.”

McClain laughs, head thrown back. It rings off the trees and back to Keith. “You’re playing with fire Kogane.”

_Oh he totally set that up on purpose._ “As a fire mage, it’s my specialty. Think you can take the heat?”

“Only if you can withstand the cold. En guard!” McClain responds.

They both lunge forward, their swords clashing in a series of strikes. Neither of them comes out with the advantage. One moment McClain is pressing Keith back, forcing a retreat, and the next it’s Keith’s turn to force the retreat. The dance lasts for a good few moments with many close calls. 

McClain gets revenge for the torn shirt, and they fall back to see if blood was spilled, crashing back against each other when none falls. 

Keith finally puts the perfect amount of force to cut those pants, even if the cut is minute and hard to see. They don’t fall back to check for blood because they both know his sword didn’t strike deep enough. 

“How long have y’all been at this?” Hunk asks when they lock swords again, Pidge having finally woken up, rubbing at their bleary eyes. 

“Enough to know McClain is no slacker with a sword.” Keith says with a pant. Their strikes are becoming more and more wild, both of them losing form from how long they’ve been dueling. 

“Hey Lance, hurry up and smoke this guy so we can eat.” Pidge grumbles. McClain laughs at that, even as he dodges one of Keith’s wilder swings. The two of them back off for a moment.

He and Mcclain both pant out breaths, and Keith runs a hand through his long hair. Suddenly he’s wishing he hadn’t left that damn bandana behind so he could pin his wild hair down out of his face. McClain runs a hand down his face.

“What do you say Kogane? Truce for now? Pick it up another time?” 

Keith lets out a breath of a laugh at the almost desperate tone to McClain’s voice, plopping down on the ground. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Alright let me go hunt down some food real quick.” McClain says. He picks up both swords, laying them beside his pack to be serviced, grabbing his bow and quiver. He’s about to head into the woods when he turns back to them. “While I’m hunting, there’s a small creek about a hundred paces that way. Found it last night on my way back with food. You guys go ahead and rinse off.”

“I thought we were gonna stay in that town?” Hunk asks, disappointed. 

“We are, and yes there are baths there, but you can still rinse off so you aren’t smelled by the townspeople a mile away.” McClain teases. Keith gives a weak salute as he tries to force himself to get up and rinse off.

Keith watches Pidge try to subtly raise their arm before cringing away from the smell. 

“Exactly.” McClain laughs, having caught Pidge in the same act. 

“Oh by the way! Female.” Pidge says before McClain goes into the trees. Keith sees him raise his arm in a wave without looking back. 

“What does that mean?” Keith asks as he slowly tries to sit up. 

“Oh right, I’m genderfluid.” Pidge says, gathering her things. “Normally I’m female, but sometimes I’m male, so every morning I tell Lance what gender I am so he doesn’t misgender me.” 

Keith nods in understanding. “That explains why Hunk and McClain sometimes call you by different genders.”

“Yeah,” Hunk pitches in, looking sheepish, leaning over Keith to give him a hand up. He gladly takes it. “Sometimes I forget, but I try not to. Sometimes it just happens.”

“And I never hold it against him, since usually the slip ups only happen when he’s stressed.” Pidge responds. “Now let’s go rinse off.”

The walk to the creek McClain mentioned is short but filled with a pleasant idle chatter. The water on the other hand is freezing. He and Hunk wait for Pidge to finish to give her privacy, standing facing the trees to make sure nothing happens. Then Pidge does the same. While the water is shockingly cold, it also feels nice to rinse off some of the sweat and dirt he has accumulated. 

The smell of cooking meat is what makes him and Hunk hurry up, Hunk because he didn’t want Lance to burn the food. 

When they get back to the campsite, Hunk takes over the cooking while Lance goes to rinse off himself. He gets back just in time for Hunk to take the food- two rabbits, two small birds and a fox- off the fire to be eaten. They eat quickly, McClain alternating between servicing the swords and eating. After a few minutes of watching Lance try to eat without his hands, Kogane takes the second sword and helps clean and sharpen the sword. They pack up right after the swords are ready for battle again, saddling up to finish the last of the ride. 

He and McClain don’t join the conversation, but they _do_ ride side by side in content silence.


	25. Devastation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and the group make it to the final town and are faced with devastation.

Riding into the town is surreal and horrifying. 

Lance is faced with destroyed buildings, and a huge, hastily made wall. They come within seeing distance from those standing on the makeshift guard towers, and a slew of arrows are pointed at them. Lance halts the progression of his little group, dismounting and standing away from his weapons with hands raised high. 

“Who goes there!?” The man standing on the tallest makeshift guard tower calls out over the distance between them. Lance quickly flicks his eyes over the people aiming at him, and is shocked to see many with bandages and injuries. 

These people are proof that the mountain tunnel has been used by Zarkon’s forces. 

“I am Lance McClain, Pirate Captain of the Serpent Lion. I have been sent here to find out if the reports of the attacks by the mountains are true by her Highness Princess Romelle of the Royal Lineage.” Lance calls out in a formal fashion. “Judging by all the injured men and women I see, I know that the reports are true.” 

“Good, then leave! We don’t want you here pirate! Come back with an army and then maybe we can talk.” The man calls out to him. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t leave yet. I must see the mission through completely. Please, we come here in peace, we just want to help.” Lance calls out, stepping forward to try and lessen the distance. He’s stopped in his tracks by an arrow a mere foot in front of him. 

Lance glances back at his friends, and Kogane, who all have their hands up as well. 

They all look at Lance for direction and Lance looks back towards the injured and defensive village clearly ransacked by enemy forces. He tries to figure out a way to convince these people to let them in so that they can help, but he comes up blank. 

“Leave now or face the consequences!” The man calls out again, before nearly collapsing in on himself with wet coughs. An idea pops into his head, and while he really hates to pimp Pidge out, it’s the only ticket through the poorly made and barely standing gates. 

“We have a healer! She’s really good at what she does. We can tend to your wounded.” Lance says. He tilts his head to the side to be heard by his friends, but keeps his eyes on the line of arrows ready to poke holes in him. “Pidge. Dismount and step forward.” 

Pidge does as commanded slowly, her small feet barely making a sound when she hits the ground. He feels as she steps up beside him, but standing just slightly behind him in fear. 

“Prove it!” 

Lance raises an eyebrow before making a sharp ice pick with his magic, drawing from the soul, and slicing his hand open. It stings like hell, and it makes him hiss. 

“Lance!” Pidge yells immediately, stepping forward to heal him, but he holds her back, holding his injured palm open to show the dripping gash to the townspeople. Then he slowly lowers his hand to Pidge and she doesn’t hesitate to heal him, hands glowing with green as her magic flows from her veins. 

When she finishes healing him he shoos her back to her horse, holding up the now injured hand to the townspeople. 

There’s a series of whispering as the man in charge confers with the people closest to him, and Lance sees him nod. He holds up a hand and every arrow pointed at them withdraws, the makeshift gates slowly opening. Lance lowers his hands and moves back to his horse, mounting her and riding slowly forward. His friends and Kogane follow them, and Lance gets to see the full extent of the damage and carnage. 

What used to be a thriving town, settled on a river and extending a mile to the lake, is now rubble.

The civilians and townspeople all look worn down. They ride through four different layers of small pike fences before getting into the open square. Everywhere Lance looks is more misery. There’s children crying, and other children breaking a tiny piece of bread to share. Mothers and women are all helping the men sharpen horribly made swords and axes. A couple hundred feet ahead, on the left of the square, there are lines of white sheets over what are clearly bodies, people killed in the carnage. A woman is wailing over one particularly bloody sheet. Two small children are on either side of another. The smell of death, sickness, and sorrow is thick in the air.

The devastation is… heartbreaking. 

On the right side of the square are people, survivors of the fighting, being treated as best as possible with what few supplies are there. No doubt the surrounding towns have stopped sending shipments of aid, clearly too scared to make the trip. 

“My god.” Hunk whispers in horror as Lance stops their procession just beyond the last pike fence. 

Lance swallows thickly at what he sees, his expression hardening as he finds more and more evidence of loss and carnage, and this is merely the town square. A man’s footsteps has Lance dismounting, turning to face the man that is clearly in charge right now. He looks even more haggard up close. Lance swallows away his horror to face the man, not giving him a second before he starts questioning him. 

“Where are the soldiers? A town this big should have at least a handful of soldiers.” Lance asks, trying not to sound harsh. 

“They all died in the initial attack. That was weeks ago. We’ve been trying to survive on our own, but it’s kind of hard. These folk aren’t trained for warfare. And all of our messengers never return.” The man explains. “The neighboring towns stopped sending supplies a week ago and now our rations are low.”

“What’s your estimate on how long your stores will last?” Lance asks. 

“If we’re frugal, a month, tops.” The man replies. Lance nods, his mind running with what he needs to do to help these people before they die either from starvation, or from the attacks. 

“Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to help you, but that means I have to take leadership away from you.”

“As long as it’s doable, we’ll be willing to accept any help you can give.” The man says, surprisingly cooperative. Lance nods.

“Well first, as I said before, my name is Lance. These are my companions.” Lance says, gesturing for the three behind him to dismount and step forward. “My healer, Pidge. She’s young, but don’t underestimate her. She is a formidable opponent in a fight, and a good healer as well.”

Pidge steps forward and shakes the man’s hand before stepping back behind him. 

“On my ship he’s my First Mate, Hunk Garrett. Not a healer, but his Earth Magic is powerful.” Lance introduces second. Hunk does the same as Pidge, stepping forward to shake hands before stepping back. “And last, a new recruit with fire magic as powerful as mine, and better with a sword. This is Keith.”

Kogane steps forward and follows Pidge and Hunk’s example. 

“I am Glen, and this is our town, Riverside. Our town leader was unfortunately killed in the second attack, so the citizens have voted me as temporary mayor.” The man, Glen says. 

“Now that introductions are over, you’ll have to excuse us, we have work to do.” Lance says. He turns to Hunk, Pidge and Kogane. “Hunk, stay with me, I’m gonna need your help on defenses. Pidge, you probably already know your job but I’ll assist in setting everything up for you, since I have more experience. Kogane, you’ll assist Pidge when I’m done with you.”

“Yes Captain.” Hunk says, and now Lance _knows_ the man is all business. Good, a serious Hunk is needed for this situation. 

“Alright, let’s go to the wounded.” Lance says, already walking towards the many people getting bandaged up on the right of the square. He stands before the mass of what must be dozens of people and whistles once, sharply and loudly to gather attention. Everyone turns to look at him. 

“I am Lance McClain, more commonly known as The Serpent. Your temporary Mayor has granted me permission to lead you in this time of crises. Now first, I need all the people with minor injuries to move to the left side of this area, slowest to the buildings.” Lance says loudly. “I have a healer who has offered her assistance, and she will tend to your wounds. However, she must first tend to those with the more fatal of injuries. I hope you will cooperate so that she may be able to help everyone she can.”

After a moment, a couple of people stand up and move to the left side of what is the medical area. 

One woman, older and tired looking, walks up to them. “I am Lila, the village doctor. I don’t have healing magic, but I’m in charge of the injured. I would appreciate your help.” 

“Pidge.” Lance says, and without anything else said she immediately heads towards the closest injured. Lance watches her hands light up with her magic.

“Pidge may be young but she is good, please don’t let her over exert herself.” lance says to Lila. She nods dutifully, leaving to go assist Pidge. 

“Alright let’s head back to the gates. We need to work on the defenses.” Lance says to hunk and Kogane, who both nod in agreement. They walk past the four pike fences and find their way up onto the makeshift wall, the wood creaking and shifting with their steps. Luckily it holds well. “Glen!”

Glen ends his conversation with two of the archers who had been on the wall when Lance arrived, and walks over. “What can I do for you?” 

“I’m gonna need this wall dismantled and removed as soon as possible.” Lance says. Glen looks shocked. 

“Now why would we do that?” Glen demands. 

“Because my First Mate will be creating a far sturdier wall with his magic in the place of this one.” Lance responds. 

“I will?” Hunk asks, then clears his throat. “Right, I will.” 

Glen looks unsure for a moment but he sighs and agrees. 

“Kogane, I want you to stand just beyond the wall and erect a wall of fire around the village until Hunk is ready.” Lance says. Kogane reels back in shock. 

“Do you know how long it will take for them to tear this monstrosity down!?” Kogane hisses. Lance nods. 

“That is why you and I will be trading places until the wall is gone, and then Hunk will use his magic to make a new one. That’s why I needed you here first before you helped Pidge.” Lance explains. 

“That’s still a lot of magic McClain.” 

“I know, but it has to be done. Hunk can help with the tear down. It doesn’t have to be neat and cleanly done, just done. As quickly as possible, preferably.” Lance says. 

“Alright fine, let’s do this.” Kogane huffs, striding off the rickety wall and out the gates. Lance watches from above while Kogane settles himself, and then he raises his hands, fire coming out of nowhere and rising high into the air. Once the magic is settled, Kogane sits on the ground, focusing on keeping the fire from spreading where it’s not supposed to.


	26. Building a Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance checks on his team as they get ready for Hunk to build the wall around the town.

Lance, Hunk and Kogane work with the townspeople through the night to tear the wall down completely around the town. 

The makeshift wall cut through and cut off all of their fields, which have been burned down anyways by the enemy. When Lance isn’t using his magic as a temporary wall, he’s helping the tear down process. When he is using magic, Kogane helps with the tear down process. 

It’s wearing Lance thin, and he knows it’s wearing Kogane thin too, but he’s more than happy to do it. 

As the sun starts to rise, Lance goes to check on Pidge’s progress and well being. He had told her to only heal as much as necessary to keep them alive so she can preserve her magic, but he knows she didn’t listen when he finds her knocked out just feet away from the injured people area. Her nose twitches in her sleep, mouth wide open but her snores near silent. Lance can tell that a lot of people have been healed up and sent away, and he thinks those people came to help Lance and them tear down the wall. 

So technically, the more Pidge healed, the more she helped Lance in his job. 

Lance crouches down next to Pidge with a fond smile, using one finger to brush away the lock of hair tickling at her nose. Her face scrunches up at his touch but she doesn’t wake up, merely turning on her side and coincidentally pressing her face into Lance’s hand. She truly is like a little sister to him. 

“She’s a stubborn one.” Lila says behind him, and Lance stands up from the ground with a yawn. The two of them walk a small distance away, just enough where they can talk without waking Pidge, but not so far he can’t see that little nose twitch she does in her sleep. 

“Don’t I know. Training her is difficult enough without adding on her stubborn pride.” Lance responds in kind. “How much magic did she use? How many people did she heal?”

“By my count, she healed all of twenty six people before she nearly fell asleep standing. And that’s not only the fatally wounded, but ten with minor or superficial injuries as well.” Lila tells him. She brushes a stray strand of gray hair out of her face and behind her ear. Her eyes have crinkle lines when she smiles, and her face is very kind.

“She was adamant that the three of you were working around the clock, exerting yourself continuously, so she wanted to ‘stay ahead of the curve’ as she said.” Lila explains, even making a little mocking voice that resembles Pidge’s. Lance laughs lowely at that. “We wanted her to go to an inn, or I even invited her to my own home, but she refused to sleep in a bed until you all do.”

Lance smiles, looking over his shoulder at Pidge. She may only be fifteen, but that girl is braver and stronger than anyone else Lance knows. 

“Well.” Lance says, turning back to Lila with a smile. “Since the wall is almost ready, I’m sure that will be soon. Thank you for watching over her, and please make sure she doesn’t catch a cold.”

“Of course.” Lila says, her eyes crinkling up when she smiles, reminding him very much of a grandmother. “The sun is beginning to rise son, hurry up and get that wall done so all of you can get some proper rest in a real bed.”

“I’ll be going then. Again, thank you for watching over her.” Lance says, already half turned to walk away. He looks back at the sleeping Pidge and he feels a warmth in his heart when she scrunches up her nose and curls up into a ball. He watches another woman, someone Lance hasn’t met, drape a blanket over her, and Pidge cuddles into it happily.

Lance heads straight for the entrance to town, the group of townspeople having come full circle with the wall. 

He sees Hunk first, directing the last of the effort to take down the last section of wall. Hunk yawns as Lance walks up to him and claps him on the shoulder. Hunk looks at him with a tired smile. 

“Almost ready Lance.” Hunk says in greeting. Lance doesn’t have the energy to form any reply other than a grunt. He’s exhausted, and more than ready to collapse onto the nearest available bed. 

“We should discuss the parameters of the wall.” Lance finally says after suffering through a jaw breaking yawn. 

“Indeed.” 

He and Hunk move to the side to allow the men of the town to finish taking apart the wall. They don’t beat around the bush, snapping out details at each other until they both know what Hunk needs to do. The wall will be ten foot high, five feet thick, and the rock will be condensed and hardened to make it more like brick than stone. The top of the wall will have slats, much like every fortress Lance has been to. The slats will allow for archers to have cover while firing, even if arrows and bullets won’t do much good against the disfigured army of Dark mages. 

At the very least, it will allow for defense in the future against any bandits. 

Hunk will also have the rock wall connect in an arch at each gate, though right now there won’t be any gates at all. Two stairways will be made on either side of where the gates will be, to allow for easy ascent. It will be a lot of work and effort for Hunk (And maybe Pidge if she’s up for it after yesterday) to do, with a lot of detail, but Lance is hoping to make this wall durable enough to withstand at least a week long siege. 

Later, once all of them are rested, Hunk or Pidge will create shelters deep in the ground, which will connect beneath the town by tunnels. 

By the time Lance and the group are gone, maybe never to return, he wants to make sure this town has every chance of survival he and the others can offer. Since this town is the closest to the tunnels, it will become a major stronghold in the coming war. Even if they seal the tunnels, Lance is more than positive they will be reopened time and time again. Having this town well defended will be the backbone to keeping enemy foot soldiers from flooding the rest of the country. 

When the two of them are done discussing, he sends Hunk off to check on Pidge and grab something to eat, maybe see if she’s willing and able to help him in the endeavor. 

Lance, on the other hand, goes to Kogane to give him the same opportunity. He walks up behind Kogane, making sure his footsteps are heard so he doesn’t shock the man. Kogane looks up, and there’s stress lines around his glowing eyes. It’s a good thing Lance came back when he did, the magic Kogane is using is starting to take too much of a toll on his body. 

Now, instead of the violet purple eyes he’s used to, Lance is looking into glowing red eyes, which have flames licking at his eyelashes. 

“It’s to switch out. I’ll take over guarding the town. Hunk and Pidge are about ready to build the wall, so you’re welcome to go get some rest now.” Lance says, taking a seat beside Kogane. “You did well, you’ve earned it. Thank you for the help Kogane.” 

“My pleasure. I’ll rest when you do though, so once I get some water and food I’ll check up on the townspeople and see if they need help with anything non-magic related.” Kogane says. When he eases up off the ground, his knees pop and crack like an old man’s, and he groans like one too. Lance has already raised a wall of ice, so he can only manage a quick glance at Kogane’s face before he has to concentrate on his magic. 

He’s relieved to find the glowing red is gone and the violet purple is back. 

Lance is almost in a trancelike state to keep control of his magic when he hears the first two sections of the wall rise up behind him, so close Lance feels the breeze on his neck. It makes him smile. He knows now, that when they leave the town to fulfill the mission Romelle gave him and report back to her, they will be well defended. 

That knowledge makes the taxing effort of his magic a little less severe while he waits patiently.


	27. The Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith after switching out with McClain on protection duty.

Keith nearly falls face first onto the table of a tavern/inn where two rooms have been set up for them when the job is done. He came here for a bath to relax, some food, maybe some ale. Before he goes back out to try to find something else to help with, he might try to meditate his magic back into serenity. 

Keeping that wall up was difficult enough, but doing so for so long was murderous. 

Keith isn’t exactly the most skilled in defensive magic. He’s more of a slash-and-dash kind of fighter, rather than someone who stands their ground. Shiro was the first to start training him in the sword, and Keith could never get the hang of the defensive part of things. He was always better at constantly moving, being too fast for his opponent to even get a hit in. 

His mother was the one who refined Keith’s natural affinity for movement in battle.

So in simpler terms, him even raising a fire wall to protect himself is a difficult challenge. And he would have refused McClain, if it wasn’t for the look in his eyes when he told Keith to do it. McClain knows Keith’s main skill is in offense, but he still wanted Keith’s help. And that look.

Determination, fury, protectiveness, challenge. 

For McClain? For McClain Keith was willing to endure the difficulty of keeping up the fire wall. And that is terrifying to admit, even if it’s just to himself. He’s grown quite fond of McClain, unfortunately. Not enough to be comfortable using his first name, but he thinks they could be decent friends if given the chance. 

McClain is sarcastic, cheeky, a little bit too flirty, a bit too hostile, but Keith thinks they make a great team. 

“Can I get you anything honey?” A soft voice says behind him. 

He sits up like the crack of a whip, wiping away a trail of drool. “I’m awake.” Keith says, blinking his bleary eyes open to look at the young tavern hostess who asked him something. God, did he really just start dosing on a table in public? That’s so not like him. Usually it’s a nightmare trying to get to sleep comfortably. 

Then again he’s been able to sleep pretty good for a few nights now. 

The tavern girl laughs. “You look exhausted, but I appreciate everything you’re doing to save our town from destruction.” 

Keith blinks at her, still slow to process. In the back of his mind he’s wondering what she’s talking about.

“So? Can I get you anything? It’s all on the house for the town saviours.” The tavern girl says when he doesn’t respond. Keith raises a hand to rub away the sleep in his eyes, figuring out what’s going on slowly. 

“Oh uh. My bad, I guess I was more out of it then I meant to be.” Keith finally says. 

Tavern girl laughs again. “It’s no problem honey. How about I make you the house special, and get you some coffee while I’m at it. You look like you need a wake up call.” 

Keith immediately perks up at the word coffee. “You have coffee here?” Oh god it’s been forever since he’s had coffee. Ruffing it in the woods isn’t exactly a coffee rich environment. 

“I’ll bring some right out. I’m Tera by the way, I’ll be serving you for as long as you're in this inn.” Tera says, and she walks away, her long blonde curls dancing in the leather strap holding it up. He idly thinks she’s pretty. McClain will probably end up hitting on her when he comes in. 

For some reason that thought makes him irritable. 

Keith has tried to put that one night out of his head, knowing it was a drunken mistake on McClain’s part, but his tired mind isn’t strong enough to keep it out. Keith drops his head back to the table as images start filling his head all over again, as if he’s still trapped in those forbidden moments. 

McClain drunker than hell, waving a half empty cup of moonshine in the air, smiling and laughing as he drags Pidge out on the dance floor. Keith says dance floor loosely of course, but he remembers watching and laughing as Pidge kept trying to escape McClain’s unnaturally strong grip. Hunk is nowhere to be found, so the kid ends up turning to Keith for help. 

Keith had managed to free Pidge, only to be forced to take the place as McClain’s new dance partner. 

Keith ended up drinking a lot more, and he thinks he remembers him and McClain trying to drink each other under the table. He still can’t remember who won. Keith must have passed out or something, because next thing he knows is he’s waking up to McClain’s voice and being dragged to that barn. 

Things escalated _way_ too quickly for him to recall. 

“Here’s your coffee honey, your food will be out in a few minutes.” Tera says, and Keith doesn’t let her finish before he’s grabbing the coffee and downing it in one go. He’s lucky he’s a fire mage, cause otherwise, Pidge would be healing him next and berating him every moment of it. Tera stares at him in shock. 

“Another. Please, god I haven’t had coffee in days.” Keith practically begs. Tera shakes her head at him as she takes his cup and refills it with the jug in her hand. He downs that one too, and Tera laughs and just walks away, leaving the jug of coffee behind for him to drink to his content. He had aimed for ale, and hit the jackpot with coffee. 

He sips on the rest of the coffee while he waits for his food. 

He gets treated real special, because as he looks around the tavern, he realizes the plate laid before him is the biggest serving and the hottest. He spots some kids sitting in a corner with a loaf of bread split between them. Keith looks down at his steaming plate of potatoes and meat. He shakes his head and whistles loudly and sharply, catching not only the kids attention but the entire tavern’s. 

Keith ignores the rest of the patrons and nods the kids over. 

They approach tentatively. When they’re close enough for Keith to speak without shouting, he smiles. 

“Make you kids a deal. You give me your bread, I’ll give you my plate. Sound like a deal?” 

They share looks of excitement and then nod excitedly. They both try to hand him their bread, and he only takes one, breaking it in half, setting one half on the plate and pushing it towards them. 

The looks on the kids faces when they eat the warm food back in their spot makes Keith feel content. He bites into his small piece of bread, drinking the rest of his coffee and standing up to get back to work. He’s stopped before he reaches the door by a few other of the men who had helped take the makeshift wall down. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to give up your meal like that.” One of them at the table says, out of a group of four. Keith nods. 

“I also didn’t have to help your town but it was the right thing to do. Don’t thank me for something anyone else in our place would have done.” Keith says, rubbing the back of his neck. The four men laugh. 

“You’re wrong, anyone else who tried to help is either dead or scared. So thank you. Here.” The second man says, a very tall one with a scruffy beard and no head hair. He hands Keith something, and he automatically pushes it away without looking. Two different hands both come up to make him take it. 

“It isn’t much, in fact it’s useless. But we hope it will remind you of the good you’ve done here when you leave.” The third man, a younger one, maybe Keith’s age or younger, says to him. Keith opens his palm and finds a beautifully crafted, palm sized, wooden dragon. The detail is exquisite, even having little scales. 

“A dragon for the Dragon. It fits. We have some for your friends too, but we’ll give them in person.” The fourth man says, and it takes a moment for Keith to register his nickname. Keith backs away in fear, but man number two with the scruffy beard grabs his wrist and stops the retreat. 

“No worries, we figured it out last night when you started breathing fire while guarding the town with your magic. We don’t want to cause trouble, so we haven’t said anything to the temporary mayor.” The scruffy man says. The young man picks up where this one stops. 

“Take this and know, you aren’t completely hated in this kingdom. Thank you for everything you’ve done.” 

Keith smiles at them almost shyly, tightening his fingers gently over the little figurine, tucking it safely away in his coat pocket, the one closest to his heart. “Thank you.” Keith responds. He goes to walk away when it feels as if something shot him but no pain comes. It does knock him to his ass, and it takes a second for him to recognize what it is that knocked him down. 

Keith’s become attuned to McClain, Pidge, and Hunk’s magic. 

And McClain’s magic just shattered, much like it did that day on his ship when Keith almost sunk it. 

“Hey kid you alright!?” One of the kind men asks of him as he stumbles to his feet. He’s withdrawing his sword before his feet get under him and the four men immediately follow his example. They race across the town square towards where McClain was supposed to be. It’s clear in an instant that the ice wall is gone, and Keith feels a deep fear in his chest. 

Keith races past the wall Hunk had just raised and it’s the worst possible thing. 

There, lying on the ground, is McClain. Hunk and Pidge are hovering over him, screaming in his face. And the reason for it being the arrow sticking out of McClain’s chest. Blood dyes the peasant shirt red, not the coat, he’s not wearing his coat. McClain is _always_ wearing his coat. Keith can hardly take in the scene before he’s forcing himself to slide up beside McClain’s head, hitting his knees. 

Instead of checking for a pulse, like he’s desperate to do, Keith clenches his teeth and raises a fire wall like no other. With McClain down for the count, it’s Keith’s job to not only command the panicked Hunk and Pidge, but to protect the defenseless town from invasion. 

“Hunk, Pidge, go take care of Mcclain. I’ll be here protecting the town. Hunk as soon as Pidge starts healing you need to get back here and finish that wall asap.” Keith commands through gritted teeth. They stare at him in shock and he can’t stop himself from snapping at them. “Now! Go! You have to save his life!”

Hunk and Pidge take off, while the four men who followed Keith wait for orders. 

Orders Keith happily provides. “You four, I need you to hunt down the son of a bitch who did this. If you find evidence of another army like you’ve seen before, come back immediately, don’t engage no matter what. Go!”

The four of them take off, and Keith is stuck over using his magic while thoughts of McClain’s death run through his head like it’s on a loop. He truly hopes McClain survives this, or there will be hell to pay for the person who did this.


	28. Magic Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith struggles with his magic as he tries to prepare the town in McClain's place.

Keith is trembling from trying to control his magic when the four men he sent into the woods call out from beyond his fire. 

He allows them through, a horrible shiver racing up his spine. It’s been at least twenty minutes since he’s been kneeling on the ground, and already fire is burning his hands. The pain is unbearable, he hates it when his magic burns him, but he has to endure it. Since he’s more experienced with his magic backfiring, pun not intended, he knows how to keep it from getting too far. 

His lungs burn, his eyes burn, his hands burn, but he’s got a tentative control on his magic. 

“Sorry, sir, but we found no trace of anyone in the woods. Whoever shot the arrow was long gone before we got here.” One of the men said. Keith nods, and then promptly regrets it as his head spins and his magic fissels out for a moment. 

“Right. What are your names?”

The man with scruffy beard and bald head steps forward, into Keith’s peripherals so he can see. “I’m Robbie. This is my brother Liam, my friend Jackson, and the kid is Adam.” The other three men step forward as they’re called. Liam is a broad shouldered man with shocking green eyes and who looks in his early thirties. Jackson is a tall and thin man, almost a wiry kind of man. And Adam is a darker skinned man with glasses and kind eyes. 

“I’m not a kid, I’m twenty five.” Adam says, but he isn’t hostile, in fact he seems amused. Him being twenty five does kind of throw Keith for a loop though.  
“Alright well I have some jobs for the four of you to do.” Keith says. “Robbie, I need you to gather the townspeople in the most secure building in town. Liam can help you. Anyone who is willing and able to fight over the age of sixteen needs to gather any and all weapons. As Hunk builds the wall, station people along it with at least every other person having a flare gun. If someone sees something suspicious they should fire the flare gun or use a flashy magic like fire or water magic to alert others and call for backup.”

“As you wish.” Robbie says. He and Liam take off running towards town. 

“Jackson I need you to go get me some water, a lot of it. My magic is starting to retaliate against me and I need something cold to keep it in check.” Keith says, just as the burns on his fingers get worse, the burning crawling up to his wrists. Keith grits his teeth as Jackson takes off, gathering more control of his magic and forcing the burning back to his finger tips. 

“And me?” Adam asks. 

“I need you to check on McClain. Find out if the arrow pierced his chest and exited his back or the way around. And if Hunk is there, tell him to get to work on building the wall.” 

“Why do I need to find out the way the arrow went in?” Adam asks. 

“Because if the arrow came from behind we have a traitor in the town. If it came from in front then we know there’s an enemy in the woods. I prefer an enemy to a traitor but I must be sure.” Keith explains. 

“As you wish, I’ll be right back.”

Keith waits in silence, wrestling with his magic with every breath. He tries to move off of his knees but the weight of the magic is holding him down. He really hopes that wall is built soon because the war with his magic is draining, and he knows he’s on the losing side. 

It’s mere minutes later when Jackson comes back with a large pale of water. 

Keith doesn’t hesitate to plunge his burning hands into the water, hissing as the water sizzles from the heat. Jackson stands waiting for Keith to give him new orders, but Keith is trying not to cry at the stinging pain of the water on his burnt hands. The magic had burned all the way up to his wrists, and if he was as inexperienced with the backlash as McClain is, then the burns would have reached his shoulders by now. Keith tries to flex his fingers and bites back a whimper. 

“Jackson.” Keith grits out after a minute. “I need you to help the brothers with the townspeople. I’ll send Adam if I need anything else. Just be sure to keep everyone calm so we don’t have a panic to deal with.”

“Aye.” Jackson says, and then Keith is left alone with his thoughts and the burning in his body. 

“I’m back.” Adam calls out. It’s a few minutes passed since he sent Jackson away, and Keith’s sweating now to match the trembling. His breathing is labored, and the burns have crawled another inch up his arms. 

“Your report?” Keith asks, and even his voice sounds croaky now.

“The arrow went through his chest and out his back. The progress of healing has stalled a little bit as they try to get the arrow out. Apparently it’s too close to his heart to risk just yanking it out. Hunk was already gone when I arrived.” Adam tells him calmly and efficiently. 

“Go check on Hunk’s progress, tell me an estimate to how long he will take.” Keith says. “And bring me more water on your way back.”

“Yes sir.” 

Keith, stuck in his head, alone beyond the walls Hunk had already built, is running through possibilities of how the arrow possibly made it through McClain’s ice. If it was a fire wall like Keith is holding up (barely) then he would understand. The fire wall is more of a warning system than a protective wall. McClain’s ice on the other hand is both. 

Keith had seen the walls of ice McClain could raise, and it was never anything to sneeze at. The Serpent’s magic is never anything to sneeze at. It had to have been at least a foot wide everytime, no arrow should have been able to pierce that wall.

And as lazy as McClain acts sometimes, he wouldn’t slack off in protecting the town. 

So how? How could a meager arrow pierce through the wall of ice? And for that matter, why a single arrow? Why wasn’t there a whole army trying to break the wall down? Why only one person? And who was that person? What did they have to gain from killing McClain and only McClain? The wall had to have been down for a good minute, so why not ambush the town then?

God, all of the questions in his head are giving Keith a headache. 

Those same questions spur on more questions, and worse, what ifs, which spur on more questions. Keith is experienced in life enough to not fall for what if scenarios, but they still attack his mind at every chance. What if he had been the one on duty when the arrow was shot? Which spurs on the question, was someone waiting for the two of them to change shifts? Which spurs on another question, why not shoot McClain before the ice wall rose up?

What if Keith had gone after the archer rather than protect the town? Would the town have been ambushed in his absence? Are they about to experience an ambush now while they’re on high alert? 

What if Hunk had built the stone wall _while_ the makeshift one was torn down? Would that have prevented them from being in this mess? Would it have prevented McClain from getting shot? If so, would they have been ambushed in the midst of building instead? Would it have been Hunk shot and not McClain?

Keith’s head pounds, but he can’t even move his hands out of the dwindling boiling water to rub at his temples. Keith gets a shock when suddenly there’s cold water soaking his entire body and filling the bucket back up with cool water. Keith snaps his eyes open and turns his head sharply, his vision swimming for a second as it makes the headache worse. 

“You were on fire, figured it was best to soak you before it got any worse.” Adam explains. Keith hadn’t even noticed his magic was starting to burn him alive again. Now that he knows though, his entire body hurts like crazy from burns spotted across his chest, back and arms. There’s a particular burn at the back of his neck that hurts like hell. 

“Thanks.” Keith mutters, his voice barely managing more than a whisper. 

“Hunk is about half way done. He says if he pushes himself past his limits he can get it done in half an hour. Our people who are willing to fight are already being stationed along the walls with arrows and flare guns.” Adam explains. He kneels close to Keith, a hand hovering over Keith’s shoulder but either there’s a burn there he can’t feel above all the rest or the man is unsure if he should touch Keith. 

“Just hang on a little longer.” Adam says. He stands up and goes to leave but Keith makes a noise vaguely sounding like a protest. Adam seems to recognize Keith’s intent and moves back beside him. 

“Please don’t leave.” Keith whispers desperately. Tears burn at the back of his throat but he refuses to let them out. “The questions, the what ifs, they won’t let me be. Just stay.”

“Alright.” Adam says, nodding slowly and shifting off his knees to sit down. “Alright I’ll stay. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you company.”

“Tell me a story.” Keith asks, letting his head drop to his chest, too weak and in pain to keep it up. He used to make Shiro tell him a story when his magic backlashes. The stories always helped calm his magic and himself. “Any story. Just tell me a story.” 

“Alright. How about I tell you about the man I love and how we met? It’s a sad tale though, no happy ending yet.” Adam says with warning in his tone. 

“Don’t care, tell me.” Keith almost growls out. 

“Alright well, a few years ago, when I turned nineteen, I decided I wanted to travel to Olkarion and learn. Learn about magic, about technology, about anything and everything I could get my hands on. I was there maybe three weeks when I met him.” Adam says with a wistful tone. Keith focuses so hard on the story that the pain fades. Like always, stories are helping his magic calm, even while he’s still overusing it.

“He was tall, strong, handsome, kind. We met in the market of the town I was staying in while I was studying, and it was like something out of a fairytale. Someone’s horse had gotten out of control and was about to trample me and my groceries when he stepped in, calmed the horse, and then helped me up from the ground with a smile. I fell head over heels for him and apparently so did he.” Adam keeps talking, and his gaze has glazed over when Keith glances at him. He’s lost in the memories. 

“We were engaged within a few months, and he would come and go from Olkarion. After he finally asked me to marry him, he told me he’s decided to move to Olkarion to be with me and that he just had to gather his things from his home.” Adam’s smile turns sad. 

“He had written to me after a week or so saying that he couldn’t come to Olkarion yet, that he has to help someone. We exchanged letters over the course of a few weeks, and he told me he wanted to bring that person with him.” Adam says, and then goes silent. 

“What happened next?” Keith asks, his voice not quite as gone as it was before. 

“About a year ago, he stopped sending me letters, and I’ve traveled all of the four countries to find him with no luck.” Adam says, the glazed over look in his eyes gone and sadness replacing them. “I came home about a month ago to visit my family, and then we started getting attacked, and I haven’t been able to continue my search. Not until I know my hometown is safe.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about your fiance.” Keith says, and he truly feels sorry for the man. There’s no telling why he stopped getting letters, but anyone would jump to conclusions. Perhaps the fiance met someone else and left Adam. Perhaps there was an accident. Who knows. “What was his name?”

“It was-”

“Keith!” Hunk calls, and Keith turns to look at Hunk, standing just inside the arch that will lead into town. He’s waving them down. 

“Guess that’s our cue.” Adam says, standing up slowly, helping Keith to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you some food, water, and check up on Captain Lance.”


	29. Priestess Roya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is trapped in a vision that creates more questions than he gets answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof this turned out to be a longer chapter than I originally thought.

Lance is drowning in visions. 

He’s aware of himself enough to know he’s unconscious, but that’s as far as it goes. Visions, probably of the future as he’s coming to accept, cloud his mind, crowd his thoughts, drown him in all the images too distorted to be comprehensible. It’s like he’s standing in a realm of darkness, and the images that flash by are on multiple different screens, overlapping each other, fighting for attention. 

He tries to grab onto one, but it slips through his fingers, as if his hands were the intangible thing and not the images themselves. 

“Stop it!” Lance yells out, his own voice drowned out by the millions of other sounds and voices the images have. He runs his hands through his hair, smacking the palm of his head to his temple in an effort to wake up. He just wants to wake up. “Help!”

No answer, because of course there isn’t. He’s unconscious, no one can hear him, no one can help him.   
Lance, in frustration, lunges with a scream at the images flashing around him. Suddenly all the images are washed away and he’s crashing into the dirt face first. Lance groans, forcing himself up onto his elbows, raising a hand to his face to check for a broken nose. His fingers don’t even come back bloody, and when he scrunches his face up he doesn’t feel any pain. 

Lance gets to his feet, spitting dirt out of his mouth, which _is_ there even though the pain of landing on his face isn’t.

He stands up, dusting off his clothes, and then freezing. What the _hell_ is he wearing? The cloth against his skin is loose, wrapping around his body in dark blue strips, and a pair of loose and thin pants that tie off at mid calf. He’s barefoot, his favorite boots nowhere to be found. 

And there’s no dirt or grass stains on his body.

Lance looks up at the area surrounding him and he’s in a little village, with buildings made of stone and mortar, even though he can see to the end of the village. Normally, with villages this small, no one can afford stone and mortar. It’s more common in big cities, market towns and port towns, the places with the most income. 

Lance walks forward, something drawing him to the big house on the hill in the distance. It’s dark, so he doesn’t see any people around, not obviously anyways. He sees shadows of people moving, but it’s always in his peripheral vision. It’s like they’re there, but Lance can’t see them and they can’t see Lance. 

He walks slowly through the village and up the hill, paranoia making him jump every time one of those shadows passes by. 

He soon finds himself, easing the door of the house open, shivering when a gust of cool air crosses his spine. He shuts the door behind himself, following the sound of the crackling fire. He rounds a wall, passing through the kitchen and into what looks to be a living room. 

“Hello?” Lance calls out. His voice echoes ominously in the silent house. He’s suddenly wishing he was back in the abyss being drowned in images. Lance swallows as he steps up behind a high backed chair, and with a small prayer in his mind, he goes to the other side. In the chair sits an old woman, who has her eyes closed, hands folded on her lower stomach. She’s not a shadow, and she seems to be asleep. 

Lance hesitantly reaches out to touch her, and then pulls away before he does. 

“Are you going to stand there the entire time Alejandro?” The woman says, and Lance jerks like he was shot at the name. He automatically reaches for his sword, but he has no weapons on his person. He stands on the defensive, fear crawling up his throat. 

“How do you know my name?” Lance asks, his voice shaky.

“Ah, that’s right, you are at the time in your life where you go by your middle name, Lance. Am I correct?” The woman asks. Her eyes are still closed, her hands still folded on her stomach. “Don’t bother with an answer child, have a seat. We don’t have that much time.”

“Who are you?” 

Finally the woman’s eyes open, but she remains unseeing, for her eyes are covered with the film of blindness. The sight makes Lance inhale sharply, and the woman smiles. “My sight was taken in return for the future I predicted. And prevented.”

“What do you mean?” Lance whispers.

“Have a seat Lance. We need to discuss some things.”

“Not until you explain to me what’s happening. Who are you? Where are we, _when_ are we? How are you even speaking to me, this is a vision right?” Lance says, shifting in his place, the heel of his right foot bumping into the chair he’s supposed to sit in and moving it. So he can interact with objects, did he travel back or forward in time or something? What the hell is going on?”

“Have a seat and I will answer all of your questions.” The woman says, one of her hands lifting and pointing towards the chair, her head never turning away from the fire. Her hand is wrinkled, dried out, and trembling. Her nails are long too, but well kept. 

Lance swallows and sits down as commanded. 

“My name is Roya, and I am not speaking to anyone. I am merely speaking into thin air.” Roya says. Lance would have collapsed backwards if it wasn’t for the chair he was already sitting in, shocked at the name he recognizes. Roya smiles at him. “I have seen a vision of you Lance, and I knew that the day would soon come where _you_ stumbled into an active vision of _me._ Though it truly is the worst moment for this conversation, seeing as you being in this vision with me is preventing your young healer from saving your life.”

Lance has no words to speak, because he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. 

Roya lifts her hand again, pointing into the fire. Lance follows where she’s pointing and the fire shifts into images, clear ones unlike the ones Kogane once made. The images show a panic, Pidge, Hunk, Kogane, and a few strange people frantic over a person, and when he looks closer he sees his favorite boots. 

“If I’m dying because I’m here, then send me back.” Lance says, as if it’s obvious, which it is.

“I am not keeping you here, you are.”

“Why would I want to be here?” Lance demands, looking away from the scene with guilty eyes. He didn’t mean to worry his friends.

“You tell me. You have something you wish to ask of me?” Roya says, lowering her hand and allowing the images to fade back into a flickering fire. Lance searches within, and he _knows_ what it is he wants to ask, but he isn’t sure he’ll like the answer. 

“Why am I seeing visions of the future?” Lance asks after a minute.

“Because it is in your blood. You are from a long line of Seers. Although I assume you would know it as Spirit Magic.” Roya explains. 

“How is it in my blood? No one else in my family sees visions.” Lance says.

Roya doesn’t dignify his response with an answer, but she smiles at him like she knows something he doesn’t. And if this is really Roya, _the_ Roya, as in Priestess Roya, teller of the future, then it is very likely, if not absolute that she does know something he doesn’t. 

Lance doesn’t like not knowing things. 

“I’m going to tell you a story child. So listen close, because it is both a warning and a guide to control your Sight.” Roya says, and she eases her frail old body out of her chair. She waves her hand slowly through the air, and their scenery changes. It’s the same house, but it’s more alive than the lonely and cold house it was mere moments ago. 

“As a child, I was plagued with visions of the future, small things at first.” As Roya speaks, a child of maybe ten years old, a beautiful little girl, walks into the room, and two figures appear. A woman- a mother, and a man- a father. They both carry a young infant each, twin boys. Little Roya doesn’t stop in her movements, heading straight for the father. The father slips, and the little boy in his arms falls to the ground, caught by Little Roya before any harm could happen. 

She hands the child back to her father, and then walks away without a word. 

“As I grew older, the small things turned into big things, ones that plagued my dreams and haunted my days. I saw so much. Death, birth, heart break, true love. All of people I didn’t know, for I was trapped inside this house by my parents, who were afraid of my abilities.” Roya continues, changing the images as she speaks, multiple different scenes, but all the same. A young Roya, growing older with each vision, crying to her parents about her visions. Lance watches the emotion in the child become diluted as she grows into a young woman. 

Until there was no emotion left in her eyes. 

“When I became of age to marry, I had decided to leave my home, before they could chain me to a new prison, a new family. My heart was cold, and for years to come I suffered the fate of the Seer.” Roya says, waving away the images to form a new one, one where Roya, as a gorgeous young woman, sneaks out of her childhood home. 

Lance looks at Roya’s younger self, struck by her emotionless beauty. 

Long dark hair and striking blue eyes, encased in the skin of a statue. No smile lines, no pain, nothing. It’s a heartbreaking sight. He never knew the legendary priestess had such a rough life. A thought strikes him, alarming him.

“Will I suffer the same?” Lance asks, voice barely a whisper. 

“That is up to you child. It is why I am warning you of my past so you may protect your own future.” Roya says. Her voice is kind, even sad. An emotion there that doesn’t show on her younger self. 

“One day, I was trapped within an active vision myself, forced to participate in what would have been a great and destructive war. It wasn’t as detailed as they say, not at the time, but I found that people would only believe what I had to say unless I proved I spoke the truth.” Roya says, walking Lance through the house as she speaks to stand on the back porch, looking over vast fields. With another wave of her hand she shows him a war zone. 

Lance watches horrified as people kill each other brutally and mercilessly. The fields are soaked with blood, bodies and other bodily fluids. Lance put a hand over his mouth to hold back his retching. 

“Tell me child, how do you explain _this_ to those who don’t believe you?” Roya asks, and once again there’s emotion in her voice. Pure, unbridled fury. With a breath and a wave of her hand the images fade. “So I did the only thing I knew to do, I forced myself to see more, know more, down to every last detail. And I paid a price for my actions.”

Roya doesn’t say it but Lance does. 

“Your eyes.” He whispers with horror and sorrow. Roya’s hand, the only hand she’s used this entire time, the other still clasped against her stomach, raises up to her own eyes, pressing a gentle finger to the side of what once were gorgeous and vibrant blues. 

“Why tell me all of this? Why warn someone you would have never met otherwise?” Lance asks. 

Roya smiles a brilliant smile, and her eyes crinkle up with old laugh lines that weren’t present on her younger self. “Because I found my happiness, and my bloodline is gifted and cursed with my sight.”

For the first time, Roya turns her head towards him, eyes unseeing but still piercing right into his soul. 

“You are not the first of my descendants I have warned, but you are the most important. There will be great struggle in your life, for you are more than you know.” Roya says. 

“What are you saying? How do you know? _What_ do you know?” Lance asks, desperate to have answers. 

“Unlike my other descendants, you are more than a Seer. You are more than a Soul Mage, as your Dragon has called it. You are more than a Prince. You are all of them, and yet you are more.” Roya says, becoming incredibly cryptic all of a sudden. 

“Stop with the riddles, tell me what you know, please. How do you know these things?” Lance says. He rubs a hand against his chest as an uncomfortable heat begins building in his chest. 

“When I discovered your complete lineage, I gave up another piece of myself to know what would happen to you. It is not your place to know these things, but knowing them myself has given me peace in my last days.” Roya explains. Her hand, she gave up one of her hands didn’t she? The other, the good hand raises to his chest and forces the uncomfortable heat away.

“We are running out of time, your friends are becoming desperate enough to try and force your soul back into your body, though they don’t realize it is what they are doing.” Roya says. Lance shakes his head, not ready to leave yet. 

“No, I’m not ready to go yet, I have so many questions. What do you mean your last days? How am I more? What do I do to protect my own future?” Lance asks desperately, the burning in his chest returning full force, and he recognizes the taste of Kogane’s magic. _That idiot! Leave me be Kogane!_

“I have forced myself to live as long as I needed to, so that I may speak to you. My love is gone, my children and grandchildren are gone, I am alone now. You will learn how to do things on your own my child, I have seen it, but only if you keep those most dear to you close. The Healer, the First Mate, The Dragon, The Champion, The Queen, The Advisor, The Princess, The Rebel and The Captains. They will keep you from suffering the fate of so many before you.” Roya says, some of the titles he recognizes, ones he can place a face to, but some of them he can’t. 

“Wait Roya-” Lance says, the burning growing so intense he hits his knees. Roya runs a gentle hand down his face.

“I know, child, I know.” Roya says. “I will leave something for you here, something no one will find until you look for it. Come for it and it will protect you, and those you hold dear.” As the burning sucks his breath away, Roya sets a hand on his forehead and he suddenly knows _exactly_ where it is Roya stands in the vision. 

“Goodbye my child.”

And then his eyes are snapping open on a pained gasp.


	30. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith helps Pidge heal McClain, then gets healed himself.

Adam practically had to carry Keith to McClain’s bedside, which is in a tent that wasn’t there before. Keith collapses to the ground next to McClain, out of breath and pain making his chest burn from the effort of even trying. 

He looks over McClain’s body to see the damage. 

His shirt is cut up, pushed to his sides in bloody strips, and the blood has been cleaned off of his chest around the wound. The arrow is out now, leaving a hole in his chest stuffed with gauze, Pidge’s small hands pressed tight to his chest to apply pressure. 

“Pidge what are you doing? Why aren’t you healing him?” Keith says the moment he registers that her hands aren’t glowing green with magic. Pidge snaps their head up, sweat, dirt, and blood smears covering their face and making them look a lot older than they are. (Pidge hasn’t told him the gender they’re identifying as, so he can’t use female or male pronouns)

“Keith, I didn’t hear you come in.” Pidge says, their voice strained and weary. They look strained and weary. “I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t locate his magic to heal him.”

“What do you mean?” Keith demands, then hissing when the sudden movement of leaning forward strains at his burns. 

“It’s hard to explain, but the simple explanation is that healing mages like me, we heal by using our magic to connect to someone else’s and using our own energy to force the healing process to speed up. So without Lance’s magic, I can’t use mine.” Pidge explains, suddenly buckling forward as their elbows give out. Pidge and Hunk automatically switch places without a word, Hunk taking over in keeping pressure on the wound. Pidge reaches behind them to grab more gauze, Hunk lifting his hands so they can layer more on top of the gauze that has bled through.

There is a _lot_ of gauze on McClain’s chest. 

“Well what do we do?” Keith asks desperately. Pidge shrugs.

“Unless you can find his magic, nothing yet. The town has hardly any supplies for surgery left now, so I can’t perform surgery.” Pidge says, and Keith doesn’t miss their muttered ‘which I don’t know how to do.’

Keith snaps his mouth shut, unsure how he would go about that. 

“Uh, what’s happening? Guys?” Hunk says, sounding panicked. Keith looks down at McClain and sucks in a breath. McClain isn’t breathing, his chest no longer rising and falling.

“Fuck! We’re losing him! Hold down his arms! I need to give him a dose of adrenaline to restart his heart!” Pidge yells, and Keith grabs onto McClain’s left arm, crying out in pain as his burnt hands come into contact with McClain’s skin. 

“Oh my god, Keith you’re hands!” Hunk says.

“Don’t worry about me! Hurry Pidge!” Keith says, freaking out when he doesn’t feel a heart beat beneath his burned fingers. 

Pidge uncaps a syringe and injects McClain in the arm where Keith is holding him down. The reaction is instantaneous, McClain nearly dislodging them when he jerks to the side, sucking in a labored breath. McClain’s face scrunches in pain, his head thrashing from one side to the other, before falling limp again, chest rising with thin breaths. 

Pidge places their hands on McClain’s chest, and then she growls in frustration. 

“I can’t grab onto his magic!”

Keith, without even thinking, takes his hands off of McClain’s arm and places them on his chest instead. He searches with his magic, even with as weak as he is, trying to locate and draw out McClain’s magic signature. It takes a moment, but finally in his mind’s eye he sees the faint glowing blue of McClain’s magic. Keith grabs on like Pidge said they have to, trying to draw him back to the surface where Pidge can heal him. 

And then a stranger’s magical signature shoves him out so forcefully he falls back.

“What just happened?” Pidge asks. Adam, who has been standing silent behind Keith the entire time, pushes Keith forward again so he doesn’t fully collapse to the ground. 

“Some stranger just forced me out!”

“What does that mean?” Hunk asks, face scrunched and eyes wide with worry.

“It means someone who isn’t McClain just forced me out and away.”

“Then try again!” Pidge says frantically. “Hunk don’t let up that pressure or he’ll bleed out!”

Hunk and Keith both rush to do as commanded, Pidge running the show since they’re the only healer in the town. Keith resets his hands on McClain’s chest and this time forcefully tries to drag that blue ball of magic back to the surface where Pidge can reach. 

For some reason, McClain’s magic resists.

Keith holds on even tighter, pulling at the magic like he’s in a game of tug o’ war with a dog. Finally McClain’s magic snaps back with Keith’s and a sharp gasp escapes McClain’s lips. When Keith opens his eyes, he’s looking into McClain’s stormy blues. 

“Lance!” Pidge and Hunk yell nearly simultaneously. 

McClain jerks, trying to get away, and failing as Hunk keeps him on his back and keeping pressure on the wound at the same time. The pressure forces McClain to let out a garbled scream of agony that makes Keith wince in sympathy. 

“Lance!” Pidge yells. “Lance, calm down I need to heal you!”

“No!” Lance says, gritted teeth making the words more of a hiss. “Send me back! I just need a few more seconds!”

“Back? Back where? Lance, just be still and let me heal you.” Pidge says, trying their best to calm McClain down from his hysteria. McClain thrashes his head, and then freezes as he locks onto Keith. He’s not going to admit to anyone that the look in McClain’s eyes terrifies him just a little bit. 

He looks _livid._

“You!” McClain yells, trying to lunge at him but Hunk’s hands and his own pain knocks him back flat on the ground. “You couldn’t have waited five more seconds to bring me back you asshole!?”

“I-I-” Keith stammers, not knowing what to say. McClain struggles one last time before collapsing back to the ground and going limp. For a second, Keith thinks he passed out again. Then McClain groans, his eyes peeling half open and looking at Pidge. 

“Do your worst kiddo.” McClain says, voice weak, closing his eyes again. Keith looks at Pidge, who looks terrified, but slowly moving to heal McClain again.

Their hands light up in a green glow, and Pidge nearly sobs with relief so strong even Keith sees it. 

McClain doesn’t fight as he’s healed, but he does groan and whimper as his skin and muscles knit back together. Pidge had to remove all of the gauze to get to his injury, so Keith is able to watch every second of the healing process in fast forward. Keith shivers with disgust as he watches, but he can’t look away. 

Bit by bit, McClain is healed, and Pidge tells him to get some rest.

They don’t get the full sentence out before McClain is snoring, asleep rather than unconscious. Hunk gently removes the bloodied shirt from McClain’s body, which is now scarred where mere minutes ago there was a gaping hole. The scar is nasty, raised and raw from the fresh healing, red as if it has a rash. It’s shaped almost like a starburst, indented in the center where the arrow pierced him, settled nearly perfectly center on his chest, right over where his heart lies. 

“Keith?” Pidge says gently, drawing his agonized gaze from Mcclain’s scar. It’s not his only scar, but it’s the only one that was made in Keith’s presence. 

Pidge kneels before him, hands on their lap, palms open to the roof of the tent. “I need to heal your burns.”

Keith looks down at his hands for the first time, actually seeing the damage done when he hadn’t bothered before. It’s worse than he thought, burnt skin puffed up and even already peeling off, blood still slowly dripping from the open wounds. He winces at the state of his own hands, setting his hands, unable to uncurl his fingers, into their palms. Just the barest touch of Pidge’s hands makes Keith hiss in pain and jerk away.

“It’s okay. It’ll be over with quicker than you know. Are you burned anywhere else than your hands?” Pidge says. 

Keith nods his head silently, biting his lip as the pain in his hands have yet to fade. Thankfully, silent Adam still stands behind Keith, ready to help if Keith collapses to the ground. At least he’s sitting down, so the fall won’t be too bad if he does. 

“He’s burned all over his body, but his hands took the brunt of it.” Adam explains. 

“What happened?” Pidge asks. They keep their hands held out, ready for Keith when he is, but they don’t push him to hurry up.

“His magic,” Adam pauses. “Retaliated? That’s the word he used, but it looks to me like magic backlash at an extreme level.”

Pidge nods in understanding. Keith lets out his breath slowly as the intense burning fades into a dull throb and sting. “Gender?” Keith asks with a broken voice. He’s afraid to speak too loudly or he’ll irritate the burns all over his body. 

“What?” Adam asks. Luckily Pidge gets the gist of what Keith is asking. 

“Female. If I don’t tell you otherwise, assume I’m female. It won’t bother me if I’m not.” Pidge says. She wiggles her fingers to him, and Keith slowly let’s her gently grab a hold of his hands, fighting himself to not jerk away, even as the pain makes him want to scream. 

“Story! Story!” Keith begs between gasped breath. Adam, without hesitation, starts telling him a story, a familiar Daibazalee fairytale. Keith is in too much pain to register the words, but the sound and cadence of someone telling a story is enough to calm him down enough for Pidge to heal him. 

“Story?” Hunk asks, and Keith jumps in his place, stifling a scream of pain by clamping his teeth down hard on his tongue. He had forgotten Hunk was there. 

Adam pauses his story mid sentence, says, “Stories help calm him and his magic,” and then launches straight back into the story without missing a beat. Keith looks at him shocked, not even caring about the story or the pain or the slow healing. 

Adam sees his look and smiles sheepishly at him. “My love was the same way, always needing to be told a story to calm down during panic attack or stressful situations.”

“You never told me his- ow! Pidge!” Keith yelps, Pidge muttering an apology after gripping a sore spot too hard. “Name. His name.”

“Oh yeah. His name is Takashi, but I call him Kashi.” Adam says, eyes sparkling with sadness and love at the mere mention of his name. A name that sends a shock down his spine. He hisses when Pidge grips too hard again, this time being his own fault for almost jerking out of her grasp.

“Takashi. As in, Takashi Shirogane? Shiro?” Keith bites out amongst the pain. 

“The very one. You know him?” Adam asks.

“Know him? He’s practically my brother.” Keith says. Then he sighs as the pain in his hands goes away.

“Okay, where else?” Pidge asks. Adam helps Keith remove his coat and shirt without irritating the burns too much. Then Adam helps Keith turn so his back is to Pidge. “Oh my god.” 

“What?” Keith asks, trying to crane his neck, but hissing when he irritates the burn there. “Is it bad?”

“Uh?” Hunk says. “What did you do, pour oil on your head and set yourself on fire?” 

“Might as well have.” Adam responds, leaning over Keith’s shoulder and wincing at what he sees. He’s glad he can’t see his own back right now. 

“Just heal me.” Keith grumbles, jerking forward when Pidge’s hands settled on unburned skin, sensitive from the injuries littering his body. “Gent-ly!” Keith grinds out. Pidge grumbles at him but he starts sagging in relief when her hagic washes over him to heal the burns. He guesses his hands were worse, because he isn’t engulfed in pain when she starts like he was with his hands.

It’s just instant relief.

“You were saying?” Adam says, single eyebrow raised. 

“Shiro saved me, picked me up off the street, helped me control my magic, showed me kindness and love where I never knew it before. He became my brother within just a few months.” Keith says. “We were going to leave Daibazal and never return, but we never got the chance.”

“What happened?” Adam asks, fear crawling into his voice. 

“He was taken prisoner by the Emperor, and has been there for a year. I became a privateer, a pirate for the Emperor, to try to keep him out of the Arena. I haven’t gotten to see him in about a month now.” Keith explains, not looking Adam in the eyes. 

“But don’t worry, McClain and I are going to bust him out.” Keith says, trying to wipe away the teary eyes Adam has. Adam swallows thickly, running the back of his hand across his eyes to get rid of the moisture. 

“Will you take me with you when you do?” Adam asks. 

“That’s up to McClain, but I’m sure once we explain everything he’ll agree.” Keith says, then hissing when Pidge starts healing the burn at the back of his neck. His hands flounder, and Adam grabs them in his own. Keith flinches from the sensity, then hisses in pain when the flinch messes with the burn.

“Stop moving!” Pidge snaps. Keith sheepishly apologizes and holds as still as possible while she heals him up.


	31. Paranoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance starts getting paranoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: The last two paragraphs somehow disappeared? So I fixed them.

Lance wakes up and still feels tired, but at least he isn’t in pain yet. 

He sits up slowly, noticing Hunk and Pidge curled up to his left, Pidge sleeping on top of Hunk like he’s a bed. Lance reaches out the hand closest to them, brushing a strand of wild hair out of Pidge’s face, smiling when she scrunches up her nose and leans into his hand. He loves it when she does that. 

Lance eases up, stopping when he feels his skin stretch strangely on his chest.

He looks down, tracing a finger over his new, starburst looking scar almost dead center on his chest. He flinches when he touches the skin in the very center, the skin a hell of a lot more sensitive than he was expecting. 

And not in a fun way. 

He shifts the blanket off of his lap, moving to stand but stopping when he sees Kogane asleep on his right side. The blanket is down around his waist, showing off the bareness of his back, and Lance reaches out to trace his fingers over the new scars, ones that look like burns. They don’t puff up like Lance’s does, in fact they look almost like very red rashes of swirling patterns where the flames must have burnt him. 

Kogane sucks in a breath, shifting away from Lance’s touch in his sleep. Apparently his new scars are overly sensitive too, and not in a fun way.

Lance retracts his hand, feeling both guilty and angry. He’s still mad at Kogane for bringing him back too soon, but he’s also guilty. Guilty that because of Lance, Kogane was forced to over use his magic, which clearly scarred him. Lance grits his teeth, shoving the blanket off him, then quickly wrapping it back around him as he shivers hard from the cold. 

He walks out of the tent quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone in their sleep. 

He’ll try to return before Hunk wakes up, because Lance knows how worried the man can get. In the meantime, he decides to walk around the perimeter, smiling when he sees the brand new wall Hunk built, looking better than he had imagined. Sturdy, thick, tall, and smooth, like they’ve been there so long the weather has worn away the roughness of the rock. 

Lance absentmindedly reaches a hand beneath the blanket to run over the scar and flinches again.

His walk through town is uneventful, and cut short as he loses his breath. Apparently he’s not completely healed up and good as new, because he’s out of breath without even doing anything. He really hopes it goes away. Instead of trying to force himself to keep walking, he checks up on Rosebud, preparing his pack to leave. There’s nothing else they need to do that’s keeping them here, and he needs to confirm the tunnels are reopened, report back to Romelle, and then honor the deal he made with Kogane to rescue his brother. 

He has a _feeling,_ one he knows now to be associated with his Spirit magic, that he’s going to have to bring in his full fleet for the rescue plan. 

Lance scowls as he works a brush over Rosebud’s coat, knocking away the dirt that has accumulated in the past few days. He really doesn’t know what to make of Roya. Of all the things she said, the things she showed him and warned him about. He’s from a long line of Seers, or Spirit Mages, but on which side? If it’s his mother’s side he needs to warn his half siblings of the dangers of Spirit Magic. If it’s his father’s side, then what?

Go back, warn his father, the king who ripped him away from his family when he was young, that he shouldn’t be using Spirit Magic?

First of all, why would he bother warning the man who only wanted to use him as a breeding horse, someone to give him an heir who _truly_ deserves the throne. Someone who doesn’t care for family _so much_ that when he ripped Lance away from his own, he forbade Lance to have contact with them again. Why warn someone who never even sat down to have a decent conversation with him?

Why would he ever return in the first place? 

There’s nothing for him there, everyone he cared about back in that country, back in Terra, Lance went back for the minute he became Captain, and took to Altea. God, he has so many questions. What did Roya mean by ‘he’s more than a prince, a seer and a pirate’? Those three titles are his defining ones, even if the first one he hates, and the second one he just discovered. A pirate is who he truly is. _Lance_ chose that title, no one else. 

Well, sort of. 

He didn’t _mean_ to be a pirate captain, he never even meant to be a pirate. In fact, he became a pirate in almost the exact same way as Pidge. Stowing away on a pirate ship, getting accepted by the captain, and then becoming Captain Blatz’ protege. Perhaps it’s becoming a tradition now. 

_Not_ that he’s going to tell Pidge anytime soon that he plans to hand his ship to her when the day arrives.

Lance huffs out a breath, and Rosebud snorts in agreement, making him smile. What makes Lance so important anyways? He’s just- he’s just Lance. He isn’t meant to lead a kingdom, he doesn’t _want_ to see the future, he’s _barely_ a captain in the first place. Hunk does all the heavy lifting after all. 

Hunk even said it himself, Lance hands responsibility to Hunk because he’s lazy.

Laziness is not a good trait for a leader. Lance isn’t made to be a leader, he was made to follow where the wind blows. He was born to be on the open seas, the waters actually calling out to him constantly. No matter what Lance does though, he can’t seem to find where the seas want him to go. Perhaps he’s not meant to discover it.

Lance eventually wraps up with Rosebud, feeding her an apple as a thanks for sticking with him, even if Lance technically stole the mare from her owner. 

He meanders his way back to the medical tent where everyone else is, breathing a sigh of relief when he doesn’t hear frantic voices calling his name. He beat Hunk, coming back before the man woke up and panicked. As he comes closer to the tent, he sees a familiar, red clad figure, standing outside the tent, using his knife to cut up an apple. 

Lance doesn’t appreciate the repetitive situation. 

Kogane looks up as Lance walks towards the tent, never even looking the Dragon in the eye, ignoring him. He goes to walk past him without a word, but Kogane sheathes his knife back in his boot, reaching out to stop Lance, his other hand over his mouth as he tries to swallow his apple down. 

“McClain-”

“Save it.” Lance snaps, a new wave of frustration and anger surging forth at Kogane’s voice. If he had only a few more seconds he could have gotten real answers and _not_ cryptic messages. “I’m still mad at you.”

“What, for saving your life?” Kogane says incredulously when he finally swallows down the apple slice, running his free hand across his chin to clear it of the juice. Lance yanks his arm out of Kogane’s grasp, another shiver racing down his spine when the movement forces cold air beneath the warmth of the thick blanket. It also pulls uneasily at his scar.

“For not giving me enough time.” Lance hisses at him. 

“Enough time for what!” 

“I don’t have to answer to you.” Lance says, wrapping the blanket tighter over his shoulders. “Pack your things and let’s get out of this town already, unless you want to stay then by all means, don’t let me stop you.” 

“Why are you being such an ass? I helped save your life!” Kogane snaps at him, finally just dropping the apple to the ground. He crosses his arms and glares Lance down, and Lance can’t help it. He’s too prideful to walk away when there’s such clear challenging intent in Kogane’s violet eyes. 

“Actually, Pidge healed me, not you. Now do as I say, or stay behind, your choice.” Lance says.

Kogane scoffs at him, lowering himself into an over dramatic bow. “As you wish your _majesty.”_

Lance flinches, watching wide eyed as Kogane stomps away. He can’t tell if Kogane said that to annoy him, calling him a royal pain, or if he _knows._ Would Romelle really break her promise to keep his secret? No, he knows the Altean royals, they all (except Ronan) are bound by their word. They’re the kind of people that don’t break promises. Unless Romelle told Kogane _before_ she promised Lance she wouldn’t tell. 

No telling how long she had known his secret and kept it to herself for a rainy day. 

Would that be why Kogane always seems to target Lance’s ships? Is he looking for royal jewels? Is _that_ why he asked Lance for help with his brother? If this ‘brother’ even really exists? Is it just a way to get on Lance’s good side so he can rob Lance of royal jewels that he doesn’t have? 

Wait, no. The crown, the dagger and sword set. They’re encrusted with sapphires. But they’re all he has of his life back in Terra. Would he be alright if someone else stole them? Why would he care if he doesn’t want to be a prince? Dammit, one of those _feelings_ are back, and it’s telling him that he _needs_ those relics of his past. Lance swallows, hearing Hunk’s tell tale tone of him starting to wake up. 

He pushes back the tent flap and goes back inside the slightly warmer tent.

Questions and suspicions roll around his head as he waits for Hunk and Pidge to wake up. It makes his stomach churn. Maybe he should have killed Kogane when he had the chance, _before_ he made a deal. A deal Lance isn’t willing to break just yet. He’s seen the future. There are too many times where it’s suggested that he _needs_ Kogane by his side unless he wants to be killed. 

But those don’t mean he’s trustworthy.

Lance is stuck in his head too much to completely register what’s going on around him for a while. Hunk wakes up, blubbers about how worried he is. Pidge checks his wounds, or scars for any infection or inflammation, scolds him for straining himself. They go pack up, and then the four of them go to say goodbye to the town. It isn’t until Lance meets Adam that he wakes up from his own spiraling thoughts. 

“This is Adam, he’s coming with us.” Kogane says, outright demanding that Lance try to say no, a fire in his eyes. Lance doesn’t have the energy to try to argue. 

“Whatever.” Lance’s dismissal seems to throw Kogane for a loop, and Adam steps up with a bright smile. 

“It’s nice to see that the healing magic took effect well. I’m glad we can finally meet for real.” Adam says, and sticks his hand out. Lance looks at it, but doesn’t bother shaking it. 

“Magic affinity, specializations, and level of skill with any and all weapons.” Lance demands. 

“What?” Adam asks incredulously. Hunk elbows Lance in the side, but Lance shoves it away. 

“Answer the questions.” Lance hisses, not in the mood or mindset to be his usual friendly self. 

“Um. Earth Magic mainly, but I can use some Water Magic. I specialize in offensive magic and I have a little healing knowledge as well, but certainly not as much as Pidge. I’m no good with a bow, but my skill with a sword is decent.” Adam explains, eyes wide. Lance nods.

“Got a horse?” Lance asks. Adam nods, lips sealed shut. 

“Good, pack, saddle up, meet me by the gates. Dismissed.” Lance snaps, turning on his heel and heading straight towards Rosebud. Hunk jogs to catch up, Pidge right behind him. Kogane sticks with Adam, and good riddance too. With as much suspicion as Lance has in his gut right now, being around Kogane too much might make him lash out and attack. 

“Dude, what is with you? Why were you so mean?” Hunk asks. 

“Not now Hunk.” Lance grits out, not wanting to deal with the questions right then. 

“Yes now Hunk.” Hunk says. “I’m worried man, I’ve _never_ seen you act this way to another person. I thought you and Keith were getting along?”

Lance stops in his tracks and rounds on Hunk, making Hunk back away. He and Pidge both stare at him with wide eyes. “Kogane. He is not _Keith,_ he is Kogane. Stop trying to be best buds with my enemy, if you want so badly to be friends with the Dragon then by all means join _his_ crew.” 

“Lance, I-” Hunk says. Lance raises a hand and cuts him off. 

“It’s _Captain.”_

Hunk reels back like he had been shot, and Lance starts walking back to his horse. This time no footsteps follow him. His skin crawls, feeling like eyes are watching his every movement. He doesn’t know who he can trust anymore. Maybe he needs to find a new crew all together. Lance rubs a hand forcefully into his chest, hissing when the sensitivity of his scar sends a shock of pain down his spine. 

He needs to get his act together. 

He’s so paranoid, he jumps at every sound around him as the townspeople start waking up and going about their day. Lance tries to shake off the feeling of eyes on his back by brushing Rosebud’s coat again, even though there’s no more dirt that needs to be brushed away. Lance shakes himself, smack a hand to his forehead as he tries to keep his wits.

Hunk is trustworthy. He’s been at Lance’s side for a good few years now. Lance is Hunk’s best friend, and the same goes for Hunk. Hunk is the kindest person Lance has ever met. Hunk is the most protective person he’s ever met. Hunk would never betray him, not even if it would save his life. Lance can and does tell Hunk everything. 

The last one makes Lance freeze.

He _used_ to tell Hunk everything. Lately, Lance has been playing with more and more cards close to the chest, not letting Hunk or anyone else see what he’s got in his hand. How long has it been since Lance has been honest with Hunk? How long has it been since they’ve had a decent conversation whatsoever? Last time Lance can remember was when they were docked in Altea, just before Pidge became a part of his crew. 

Was _Pidge_ the reason he hasn’t told Hunk anything at all?

No, no Pidge is his protege. His pupil. Pidge is like a little sibling to Lance, there’s no reason he should be suspicious of Pidge. Although, how much does he really know about her? She’s just like Lance, keeping all of her cards held close to her chest and not giving up any of her advantage in the game. 

Lance growls to himself, smacking his head a little more. 

_Stop it!_ Lance yells at himself. _Stop suspecting everyone around you to be playing against you._ Who was it Roya said to keep close? The Healer, the First Mate, The Dragon, The Champion, The Queen, The Advisor, The Princess, The Rebel and The Captains. Pidge, Hunk, and Kogane. Someone he doesn’t know yet. Lance guesses Allura since she will be Queen one day. He doesn’t know who the advisor is, though probably someone in Altea’s royal court. Romelle. Someone he doesn’t know yet. And all of his captains. Roya said to keep them close and they will keep him from suffering the same fates as the Seers who came before him. That means they’re trustworthy right? Is _Roya_ trustworthy? God Lance’s head hurts.


	32. Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group are ambushed.

They round the hilltop in front of the tunnels around midday, and Lance pulls his horse to a stop at the crest. He scowls down at the tunnels, which are indeed no longer collapsed. Lance turns his horse to the side as the rest of the group catches up to him, their horses dancing in place when they all stop. 

“Tunnels are open. Hunk, if you please.” Lance says. Hunk nods and dismounts, handing his reins to Pidge and standing beside Lance’s horse silently. He doesn’t look Lance in the eyes when he cracks his knuckles and takes a running start down the hill on the other side. As he runs, he raises out a platform of earth with his magic, and then leaps off of it, hands balled into his fist as he falls through the air to the entrance to the tunnels. 

Pidge pulls up next him to watch with wide eyes. 

The moment Hunk lands on the ground a large shuddering happens beneath the hooves of his horse. Lance tightens his thighs and hands to avoid being shaken off. Pidge isn’t so lucky, landing to the ground with a yelp. Lance waits patiently as the shudders stop, and then a large groaning sound erupts and the tunnel’s entrance is caved in all over again. 

Hunk climbs back up the hill with grunts, taking the reins of his horse, which Pidge had dropped when she fell. 

Hunk only has one foot in the saddle, ready to lift himself up onto his horse’s back, but he freezes when there’s a loud explosion. Lance had already turned his horse around, ready to head back to his ship after spending far too much time on land. He’s craving the smell of the ocean, craving the rocking of the ship beneath his feet.

“What was that sound?” Kogane asks, and Lance reluctantly turns Rosebud back to look at the tunnels. 

He gets a mere second to see the tunnel’s entrance blasted back open, as well as the many people surging out and up the hill. Lance reacts instantly, leaping from his horse and sliding down the steep hillside. He draws a sword, reinforcing the weapon with his ice, and screaming at the four who have yet to react.

“Ambush!”

Lance beheads one of the distorted people, immediately dropping onto his back to avoid a ball of shadows, that of which doesn’t just burn the hillside when it lands, it completely disintegrates an entire chunk. It leaves a huge crater in the dirt and rock, and Lance snaps his head back towards the enemies fixing to surge on top of him. 

He snaps up a thick ice dome around his body, barely staving off one of those dark magic balls that disintegrates on contact. 

Lance watches as fire surges over his dome, Kogane leaping to assistance. He’s moving around like crazy, not even stopping to breath, pivoting on his heels to avoid attacks at the last second. Lance drops the dome slightly, reaches up as one of his enemies tries to dart over him, grabs the guy’s ankle and then yanks him down. As soon as the man hits the ground, Lance’s magic is down and he’s up, taking the distorted man down for good. 

Lance sprints back towards the horses, trying to get the high ground, but he gets blocked off by a dozen people. 

He backs up slowly, twirling his sword to hype himself up and chase away the fear secretly crawling through his chest. _This_ is why Lance prefers the high ground, because he hates being cornered. With a shaky breath, Lance sets his stance (one similar to Kogane’s stance when they dueled, because these aren’t normal people who would attack with swords), and darts forward to attack. 

Lance tires quickly because of the scar, and it’s taking everything in him to stay upright. 

Lance goes on the defensive, eyes darting around himself to call for help. Hunk is standing his ground, using his magic to pin the people around him while Pidge sweeps through the air and takes off their heads. Kogane is all over the area, never staying still long enough to listen if Lance tried to call out.

And Adam? Well, Lance can’t even find Adam. 

Lance is knocked to the ground as one of the people launches at him, this one a female who’s thinner than she should be, but stronger than she should be too. He gasps for breath, forcing her off of him with his magic. He rolls onto his side as his chest lights up with pain, gasping for breath. 

He forces himself to his feet, narrowly avoiding the destructive shadows that take out a chunk of the earth beneath where he had been laying. 

Lance tries to avoid fighting as he sprints hard up the hill, trying to get the high ground, trying to escape from the destructive and terrifying Black Magic. He yelps when one of those shots goes wide, narrowly missing him as he runs, and completely taking out the top of the hill. Lance can hear the frantic neighing of the horses as they scatter to safety, but he has no chance to try and go after even his lovely Rosebud because his feet are falling out from under him. 

The hill is collapsing. 

“Avalanche!” Lance yells, struggling in the dirt as he tries to climb back up to safety. He glances back, hitting the ground and losing his grip on the solid ground when another ball of black magic skims over where he had been standing. Lance smells his own hair burning, and he yelps, trying to put out a non-existent fire. The force of the collapsing dirt is dragging him down, down straight into the mass of distorted figures, clawing their way up to Lance. 

Lance flips over and tries to find something solid beneath the falling dirt with no luck. 

Dirt fills his mouth when he tries to yell for help, making him choke and gag. He keeps trying to claw his way back up the hill, even as he’s smacked in the face with clumps of dirt and small rocks. God, he didn’t realize how _big_ this hill was when they first crest over the surface. 

Guess now he knows why Hunk was huffing and puffing as he climbed back up the hill.

A hand locks around Lance’s ankle, making his screech, and then gag some more as he gets another mouth full of mud and dirt and rock. Another hand locks around his other ankle, both of them dragging him further down. Lance struggles to get away but there’s nothing to grab a hold of. 

He’s forced back with a final yank, multiple sets of hands grabbing at him, tearing at his clothes as he tears at their grips. 

The last of the tiny avalanche surges over him and the figures that drag him down, burying them alive. Lance struggles not to breath in the dirt, to keep his mouth shut and his eyes shut, struggling to get free. The distorted dark mages beneath him don’t seem to care that they’re suffocating, still clawing at him, sharp nails digging so hard into his skin that they draw blood. Lance struggles for air, chest burning with the little oxygen he managed to capture before he was buried. 

Why do bad things have to keep happening to _him?_

Lance struggles to even move beneath the dirt, that of which is practically pinning him down. It doesn’t seem to affect the Dark mages as much, since they still keep clawing at him as if they’re not even being buried alive. Gods, how _fucked up_ are these people? What did Daibazal _do_ to them?

Lance can’t fight the burning in his chest anymore, his own body fighting against him and forcing his mouth open to breath. His mouth is full of dirt the moment he opens his mouth, and he thrashes against the weight of the dirt. 

He barely manages to shift a few inches. 

His head starts getting fuzzy from his lack of air, his struggling slowing, even as the figures keep clawing at him. He idly realizes, in the back of his slowly blackening consciousness, that even the figures are slowing in their struggles. 

Something grabs his wrist, and then _pulls._

His head breaches the earth, but he’s too weak to try and help whoever is mercifully dragging him out of his living grave. There’s another harsh yank, threatening to take his arm out of the socket, and he crumbles forward at the waist, half free of the dirt, hands still weakly trying to yank at his ankle. 

“McClain!” Someone yells, and then there’s a large smack to his back, one that stings, one that forces him to cough out the dirt in his mouth and suck grateful lungfuls of air. He spits out as much of the dirt in his mouth as he can, the taste sticking to his tongue, to the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat, coating his teeth. 

Two large hands come up to his face and he flinches, but they hold steadfast, gently digging thumbs into his eyes to rid them of the dirt. His eyes are glued shut, his own tears and the dirt sealing them closed. He exhales shakily when the hands stop grasping at his ankle. It takes a few swipes before Lance can open his eyes, and when he does he wants to sob. 

Hunk, Pidge, Kogane and Adam all surrounding his half free form wearing worried glances. 

“Oh thank god.” Hunk whispers, hands going underneath Lance’s armpits and heaving him forward. Lance is heaved free, collapsing onto Hunk who collapses back to the ground from Lance’s sudden weight. Lance clings to Hunk’s shirt desperately as he keeps taking large gasping lungfuls of breath, sweet sweet air filling his lungs. 

“It’s alright buddy, I’ve got you. You’re alright now.” Hunk soothes, running a hand up and down Lance’s back as he trembles. Pidge grabs onto Lance’s left hand, closest to her, and he let’s Hunk’s shirt go to grip onto his little protege’s tiny hands. She pulls it close to her face as she sobs with relief. 

“The-” Lance says, struggling to speak, his voice scratchy from the screaming and the dirt clogging his throat. He coughs again, leaning to Hunk’s side to spit out another mouthful of dirt and saliva. “The fight?”

“The avalanche of the hill pretty much wiped out most of the mages, and after we dispatched the rest, no one could find you.” Kogane explains. “We started tearing at the dirt, but we saw a patch keep getting displaced from movement, so we assumed it was you.”

Lance closes his eyes and nods, going limp against Hunk’s chest. 

“What he means is, it was Keith who found you, and we all dragged you out of the dirt. Pidge, Adam or I could have used our magic, but we were afraid of accidentally crushing you since we didn’t know exactly how deep you were buried.” Hunk says, and Lance appreciates the low rumbling of his voice with Lance against his chest. 

“I appreciate the non-crushing.” Lance mutters. Hunk’s large chest bounces Lance up and down as he laughs. It makes Lance smile, and when Hunk’s laughter slows, Lance forces himself to his feet. He wobbles when he stands up, steadied by Adam’s hand. Lance’s gut reaction makes him want to yank away, but he forces that reaction down like swallowing dirt. 

Lance looks down to himself with a scowl as he picks at his dirt stained, ripped up, slightly bloody coat, pants and peasant shirt. 

“Guh.” Lance mutters. “I look like I just crawled out of hell.”

“It’s not too far from the truth.” Kogane says, and despite his still thick paranoia and suspicion, Lance throws his head back with a laugh, passing him on his way to hunt down his horse, slapping a hand to Kogane’s shoulder. 

Kogane stumbles with a grunt from the force as Lance walks away.


	33. Terra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith convinces McClain to sing.

Keith isn’t sure about anything anymore. 

Well. Anything involving McClain. 

One minute he’s all up in Keith’s face, pissed off and refusing to explain why. Then he’s snapping at Adam, who he had just met. Then Hunk, his _best. Friend._ Then suddenly, after a near death experience- _again-_ he’s not hostile anymore? And now?

Now they’re back on their horses (after chasing them down, which took forever) and McClain is happily humming a little tune. 

Keith thinks he recognizes the tune, and after listening closely, drowning out Hunk and Adam’s getting to know each other conversation, he realizes that he _does_ recognize the tune. It’s a slow one, which he had been humming to himself the morning after _That Night._ The night that shall not be discussed. 

Keith purses his lips, wondering whether he’s on McClain’s good side right now or not. 

He wants to go ride up next to McClain while he can, ask him about the tune again, and hopefully get an answer. However the conversation could go one of three ways. If Keith is back in bad graces with the mighty _Serpent,_ McClain is going to snap at him again. If Keith is back in good graces for saving his life (again), then maybe McClain will be willing to have an actual conversation for once. 

Or maybe McClain won’t answer the question because he has no feelings on the matter of Keith in general. 

Is it worth it to risk getting into another fight, to risk McClain holding up his end of the deal to help his brother? Or should he play it safe and wait for McClain to make the first move? Risks, or safety. Safety or risks?

Oh who is Keith kidding, he’s never played anything safe. 

Keith lightly nudges his horse, who is named Storm by the village who gave him to Keith, a mighty stallion of a speckled grey coat, to go faster, passing by Pidge, who looks fully asleep in her saddle. Like, bent over the saddle horn and snoring, and even drooling a little too. 

Gross. Also, wow, he’s surprised she hasn’t fallen off yet. 

Keith slows his horse casually as he sidles up beside McClain, who has yet to wipe away any of the dirt smudging his face, coating his clothes, and clumping in his hair. He looks like a life sized version of Pidge’s little guard golem. 

McClain glances over at him, the tune fizzling out in his throat as he cocks an eyebrow at Keith. Okay, so far so good. There’s at least no yelling happening yet. Keith starts regretting taking the risk the moment McClain locks those storm like eyes on Keith, darker than their usual vibrant blues. He can’t tell if it’s because of Keith or not that his eyes have darkened so much, but he doesn’t want to know if it is. 

“So.” Keith drawls. “What were you humming a second ago?”

Lance doesn’t answer, turning back to the path ahead of them. Keith presses on. “It sounded like the same one from the village.”

Silence. 

Actually, yeah, there’s silence. No idle chatter between Adam and Hunk, no snoring from Pidge. Keith cautions a glance backwards to find guarded eyes on him and McClain. They must be waiting to see if McClain is going to snap at him again. Keith swallows and faces forward, trying to stop his shoulders from curling forward from the weight of the gazes locked on them. 

McClain seems unaffected, or unaware. 

“Will you tell me what it’s about?” Keith tries again, telling himself that if this time he doesn’t get a response, he’ll cut his losses and fall back to being the rear of their group. He watches Mcclain’s face closely, occasionally shifting his eyes to the path to make sure his horse doesn’t stray. 

“It’s an old ballad from where I’m from.” McClain answers, almost word for word his exact response from back in the village. Keith purses his lips, wondering if he should try guessing at the country again or not. He glances back at the three behind them, Adam subtly motioning for him to keep going. Keith nibbles at the inside of his cheek and turns back to face forward.

He votes not. “What’s it about? Ballads always tell a story.” Keith says, trying to sound friendly and not aggressive in any way. 

McClain hums out for a second, just a hum, not the song. He tilts his head, and those stormy blue eyes are flickering over Keith. He holds absolutely still, not looking at McClain, trying to stay relaxed as that heavy gaze holds on his face. He wants to let out a relieved breath when the heavy blue eyes move away. 

“It’s an old legend, one nearly forgotten by most people these days.” McClain finally answers, and Keith barely holds in his shocked inhale when he does. He was expecting to be shut down hard.

“What’s the legend about?” Keith asks, holding his breath as the tension builds around them, waiting for McClain to either open up a little, or blow up a lot.

McClain chooses to open up, and the snapping of tension is almost audible. The three behind them get as close as possible to listen in on the story as McClain tells it. A story about a young woman who sacrificed herself to a beast of legend in order to appease the gods and bring rains in the drought. She ended up befriending the Serpent (which makes Keith want to snort at the irony of The Serpent telling a story about a Serpent) and every year the Serpent would use water magic to water the crops. 

“Legend has it that the Silver Maiden learned water magic from the Serpent, thus inventing Water and Ice mages like me.” McClain ends. There’s a choking sound behind him, and he and McClain both turn to see Pidge with a hand over her mouth and eyes wide. What’s really concerning is that the usually emotionally clear healer is now emotionally closed off, Keith unable to read what’s going on behind those amber eyes of hers. 

Usually she’s so open with how she feels, her heart on her sleeve as they say.

“Pidge?” McClain asks with a raised eyebrow, slowing his mare, and therefore the entire group, to a stop as he twists in his seat. “Everything alright?” 

“Silver Maiden?” Pidge asks. McClain nods slowly, eyes narrowed and confused. 

“Yeah, that’s what she’s known as nowadays. The Silver Maiden. A maiden fair with silver hair, as the first few lines of the ballad describe her.” McClain explains. “Why?” 

“How does the ballad go?” Pidge asks. McClain’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline at the question. He looks just as confused as Keith is. 

“You want me to sing the _entire_ ballad to you? Right now?” McClain asks incredulously. Pidge nods enthusiastically. “Do you _know_ how long ancient ballads were? Those people could never make anything that didn’t last at least ten minutes!”

“Please? While we ride to the village?” Pidge asks, widening her eyes behind her glasses and sticking her bottom lip out. Oh man, that puppy dog face is phenomenal. How does McClain ever tell her no? Or does he just fold to her every whim?

Keith glances at McClain’s expression and he has his answer: The Serpent can’t tell the young Pidge no for anything.

“Okay. I’ll sing while we ride.” McClain surrenders, twisting back to face forward. “The lyrics might be a little off since it’s part of the ancient language, and not everything fits as good as they used to.”

“That’s fine, now sing!” Pidge demands, and McClain shakes his head with a chuckle as they start moving again. It’s a long few moments while McClain clears his throat to start singing. 

And when he does, it takes Keith’s breath away. 

_With silver hair and silver fair_

_The sea does come a-calling_

_Into rolling waves she dares_

_The Silver Maiden falling._

_Anger blinds the gods, Beware_

_Sacrifices she’s recalling_

_For those sacrificed, your grief declare_

_A fate most cruel befalling._

McClain’s voice sings like honey, echoing almost eerily in the quiet forest. Keith almost thinks the animals in the nearby woods have stopped scuttling around to listen too. It’s hypnotizing, and slow, and beautiful. Keith closes his eyes as he continues listening.

_Into depths so dark and cold_

_Silver Maiden sinks so slowly_

_A monster, a legend, from ages of old_

_Regards Silver Maiden coldly_

_She kneels in her pride, the sacrifice sown_

_To the Serpent who lives so lonely_

_She offers her life, her smile so bold_

_For the Serpent who regards her closely._

Keith’s breath is non existent with the stretched out syllables, shaping around McClain’s tongue languidly, the rocking of his horse almost in time to the slow beat of the melody.

_He asks silver maiden the reason she smiles_

_When her life is his for the taking_

_She had drifted in the water for what must have been miles_

_So why not like others is she not shaking?_

_The maiden replies, her friends are enduring the trials_

_That the Gods are cruelly making_

_She gave up her life so her people survives_

_For the future the children will be shaping._

McClain was right, it doesn’t fit completely perfect, but his honey voice softly eases the awkward cadence through. Keith is on the edge of his saddle, trying to listen closer when McClain’s voice starts to fade a little, sitting back straight when he picks back up the volume. 

_The serpent demands why bother at all?_

_Why give yourself for those unworthy?_

_Why would you bother answering the call?_

_For an action so unearthly_

_The hopelessness and fear, the maiden recalls_

_She looks at the Serpent so absurdly_

_She claims that it’s her people who are destined to fall_

_When the gods’ anger is so bloodthirsty._

Keith finds the story forming in his head, watching as a maiden with silver hair and fair skin talks to a gigantic Serpent beneath the sea. It’s a good thing this entire thing is a _legend_ and not considered true history, because the Silver Maiden would have drowned before she could get one word out to the Serpent. Not to mention, how could she _talk_ to a Serpent? Did they speak the same language or something?

He tries to shut away his questions to listen to McClain’s voice ringing around the forest.

_She had no other choice but it was her choice to make_

_And she would gladly make it twice over_

_And the Serpent, the vessel for the sacrifice made_

_No more desires an eternity sober_

_He strikes hard and fast, for the ropes not the maid_

_That binds the maiden who smiles moreover_

_She embraces the serpent generosity repaid_

_Fate won’t control the serpent now that he knows her._

Why does this ballad make so many implications that the Silver Maiden has a sexual relationship with the Serpent?

_The serpent rises up as he’s determined to change_

_So no more bloodshed will her people be laden_

_Her sacrifice and honor will the Serpent repay_

_The cruelty of the gods he will straighten_

_From now on her people will no longer be caged_

_Forced to sacrifice to gods are mistaken_

_Once a year he will provide the people with rain_

_His jaded ways are gone now because of the maiden_

So, the serpent decided to be a good guy just after one meeting of one maiden? What? That’s not logical. McClain pauses his singing with a chuckle, and Keith opens his eyes to find those stormy blue eyes watching him, not so stormy anymore. Keith ducks his head with a blush as McClain keeps singing. 

Those eyes never leave Keith’s face as he sings.

_What he feared one day would happen had to soon come to be_

_As the maiden passes on without him_

_The serpent in his grief hid alone beneath the sea_

_His silver maiden gone and his world grim_

_The serpent never rose again so swallowed by his grief_

_And the people suffered without the maiden_

_They swore one day she’d rise again, just you wait and see_

_To bring life back to the serpent._

Okay now they’re not just _implying_ the sexual relationship, and it’s kind of creepy. McClain snorts again, making Keith’s blush get hotter as he tries to keep a straight face. He must be making strange expressions if he’s amusing McClain _that_ much.

_And perhaps when that day comes he’ll surge back up through the sea_

_And provide the rains to the people again._

It’s a few moments of McClain’s silence before Keith realizes he’s done with the ballad. And then he can’t help himself. 

“Why does it suggest so much that the maiden and the Serpent are in a sexual relationship?” Keith demands. McClain splutters, trying to control his laughter, and then failing. He bursts into such boisterous laughter that he promptly falls off his mare and hits the ground with a thud, and then he keeps laughing.

McClain is soon wheezing from his laughter, curling up and clutching his stomach in an effort to stave off the pain of laughter. 

“Stop laughing it’s a genuine question!” Keith snaps, face burning so hot he might have actually caught on fire. God he hopes not, that would be embarrassing. 

“I’m sorry, but you’re face!” McClain screeches out, almost sitting all the way up before crumbling back to ground in laughter. Keith scowls at him, wanting so badly to throw something at him, but having nothing in close enough reach he doesn’t want to lose. 

Keith hisses, this time breath short little flames between his teeth as he seethes in embarrassment, only making McClain laugh harder. 

“You can stop now.” Keith deadpans. McClain doesn’t listen. “Any moment now.”  
McClain wheezes so hard he stops making sound to match the heaving of his stomach. Tears are pooling in McClain’s eyes as every few seconds he gasps for breath. Keith fights a smile from growing on his face, because that tense, guarded expression McClain has sported all day has finally slipped. He just wishes it wasn’t Keith he was laughing at.

“Okay.” McClain’s squeaks out, sucking in slow, calming breaths. Breaths that are shattered by a few giggles until he tries to calm down again. “Oh man, my stomach hurts now.”

“So?” Keith asks, determined to get an answer out of McClain. “Why is that ballad so sexualized?” 

McClain’s face turns red, cheeks puffing out as he tries to suppress more laughter. Keith’s face falls into what must have been a hilarious expression, because McClain breaks, falling back into the dirt to convulse in more laughter. Keith sighs, running a hand down his face. 

It takes a few minutes for McClain to calm down enough to climb back onto his mare, even as chuckles still burst from his lips. 

“The original version isn’t quite so sexualized, but it just translates that way.” McClain eventually answers.

Keith isn’t sure what to make of that. What kind of language translates into something so sexualized and weird? 

“Terra.” Pidge says out of the blue, and McClain’s smile is wiped off his face in an instant, eyes going wide in what Keith thinks is horror. He doesn’t look back, or respond, just stares off silently into the path ahead. Keith doesn’t know what Terra is, but it’s clear McClain does. When Keith glances back, Hunk and Adam look just as clueless. 

Pidge stares with narrowed eyes at McClain’s back. 

“Terra.” Pidge repeats with a hiss. Keith watches as McClain’s shoulders tense, and he feels like there’s something he should know about that word. McClain doesn’t respond, so Pidge does. _“Terra.”_

“Okay!” Mcclain snaps. “Yes, Terra. Now please stop talking.” 

Pidge eases back in her saddle with pursed lips, but does as asked. Keith’s eyes bounce between the two of them in confusion. 

“What’s Terra mean?” Hunk asks. 

“Drop it, now.” McClain hisses. Hunk goes silent with wide eyes. They stay in silence until they reach their old campsite, and McClain hops off his horse before the mare even comes to a stop. “Ready the camp, I’m going hunting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ballad Lance sings is a song I wrote just for that legend, and yes, it's very much supposed to sound weird and sexual lol.


	34. Terra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge reveals her past.

Lance is distraught.

Actually no, he’s terrified. 

He figured he could play off the story as some old, ancient Altean legend, but Pidge knowing it’s from Terra, from his home country? He’s terrified. He isn’t sure if she just knows he’s from Terra, or if she _knows._ How does she even know it’s from Terra? How does she even know that Terra _exists?_

Is… Is _Pidge_ a Terran too?

Is that why she doesn’t talk about where she’s from? But she mentioned Olkarion! She’s way too young to have been there when Lance ran away, or when Lance was announced as the heir to the throne. She wouldn’t have even been conceived yet. Olkarion is a place of knowledge, would she have learned the story there? Could she have just guessed? 

No, that would be far too much of a coincidence. 

Who _is_ she?

Lance tries to shut the questions and suspicions away again, trying to focus on the hunt. It’s hard to stay focused enough to stay silent so he can creep up on his prey, even when he isn’t plagued with questions and paranoia. And he had finally done it too! He had finally willed the paranoia away enough to not immediately lash out at Kogane when he started asking questions. 

He even answered them!

And laughed! He had laughed harder than he has in months, and now all of a sudden he’s plagued with a sense of dread and fear. Would she make him return if she knew who he was? _Could_ she make him return if she knew who he was? Why the hell would Roya tell him to keep the Healer close if she was going to be a threat?

Lance pauses in his place behind a bush for two reasons. 

He just spotted a herd of deer.

And he just realized that Pidge isn’t the only healer he knows. 

_Adam._ Adam is a healer too, he said so himself. Maybe not as powerful, but Roya never said anything about a _powerful_ healer, just a healer. Lance swallows, mentally willing away the thoughts and the suspicions. He raises his bow slowly, aiming for the deer that will provide the best meat for the five of them, drawing back the bowstring slowly to avoid any creaking. 

He lets his arrow fly, releasing both the tension in the bowstring for a perfect shot, and the hundreds of questions that have built up in his mind over the day’s events. 

A young bucks drops with an arrow through the eyes, and the herd scrambles for freedom. Lance let’s them go, not bothering with chasing after any of them. He got what he needed, now it’s just a manner of draining the blood enough to not attract predators that may be lurking in the woods. Lance kneels over the body of the buck, folds his hands, and thanks the deer for his sacrifice. 

Using a dagger Lance keeps tucked into his favorite boots and mindlessly slashes the throat so he can drain the blood enough that it doesn’t trail when he heads back. 

Meanwhile, his head is a jumble of questions and thoughts, not even finishing off one before moving on to another. He takes a deep breath through his mouth, refusing to smell the blood as he lifts the buck's rear end to encourage more bleeding. He starts compartmentalizing, trying to organize his own thoughts before they drive him mad. 

Starting with being shot through the chest. 

He remembers it vividly. How a pointed, tiny ball of that Dark Magic was focused at the end of an arrow, piercing through his ice easily. The ice having been just thick enough that Lance had time to lean to the side, but not time to escape altogether. He was unconscious before his magic even shattered. 

Who shot him? Why Lance? Why then? Why not take advantage and ambush the town while it was briefly undefended? 

The vision. 

Which half of his family is Roya’s bloodline? How far can Lance push the Spirit Magic before having to pay a hefty price? Why would she leave him something, and why is it in the center of Daibazaal? What is it that she left him? What did she mean by ‘more’? What does she know? How does he go back and speak to her again?

The argument with Kogane.

Does he know Lance is a prince? Is he after the sapphire encrusted relics of his past? Is he truly someone he should trust, or was Roya wrong? What role does Kogane have to play in the supposed struggles Lance is expected to face? He knows there’s a few times where Kogane is detrimental to survival, is Kogane some sort of protecting force?

Lance hefts the deer onto his shoulders with a grunt, hunched over as he trudged back to the campsite, still compartmentalizing. 

Nearly being buried alive.

That was scary, terrifying even. He suddenly understands what people mean what they say about drowning, because he was drowning, suffocating like he never has beneath water. He doesn’t exactly have any questions about that incident, just bad memories. Very, very bad memories. He’s positive he’s not getting any sleep any time soon, he has enough reasons to have nightmares. Getting shot in the chest, nearly being buried alive, the vision with Roya where she showed him the bloodshed of a war that never happened. 

Nope, not getting any sleep tonight.

Terra.

Just how badly is his secret kept? Romelle knows. Kogane might know. Pidge knows at least a little bit. Not to mention all of his captains. Did one of his captains let the cat out of the bag or something? He’s known those guys for years, surely they wouldn’t think to randomly tell someone who Lance is? Not that even his captains know the full story. His family maybe, cause they all know too, obviously. He doubts any of his half siblings would let the secret slip. So _who told?_

Lance hefts the buck higher on his shoulders as he retraces his path back to their campsite. 

He’s going to have to deal with this whole Prince situation soon. Maybe he’ll drag Pidge away to interrogate her when everyone else is asleep. Or maybe just confront her outright. Should he just explain everything to them? Or at least Hunk, he hates that he’s keeping Hunk in the dark like he is. He’s planned to let him in on everything, but Lance just hadn’t had the opportunity. 

He breaks the treeline to a fully set up camp. 

Hunk sits beside the fire, preparing the spit for Lance’s catch, while Kogane relaxes against a tree a little distance away from the fire. Pidge and Adam are both chilling out beside their horses, Adam brushing his, while Pidge thinks she’s sneaky with feeding hers an apple. 

Lance drops the buck with a thud and a grunt, making everyone’s heads snap towards him. 

“Dinner.” Lance points, out of breath from lugging the deer such a distance. He hadn’t realized just how far into the forest he had gone, and he rolls his shoulders back with a groan. Lance pops his neck, sighing in relief as he forces out a painful kink from walking so much hunched over with a weight on his neck. 

“Damn, where’d you find a buck?” Hunk asks as he’s already skinning and gutting the animal. Lance wants to gag at the smell. 

“Went further into the forest than I had realized and happened upon a herd. Figured the one was enough for us all, but I can get more if it won’t be.” Lance says, bending backwards to pop his back too. “Sucker was heavy too, even after I drained it.”

“I think it’ll be enough. Why don’t you unpack while I get started on dinner?” Hunk asks, and normally Lance wouldn’t question anything about what Hunk just said. Though, normally, Hunk doesn’t sound so wary and tense. He narrows his eyes at Hunk. 

“What’s wrong?” Lance demands, and Hunk’s shoulders bunch at the commanding tone Lance uses. Hunk avoids his eyes as he gathers all the guts up in the skin, readying it to be thrown into the woods for the buzzards and ants to eat. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Hunk responds, voice light but tense. Lance watches his eyes flicker to Pidge, and he understands what’s going on. Well, sort of. He isn’t sure just how much Pidge knows after all. Lance turns to Pidge and grabs her arm, dragging her off into the woods where they won’t be heard. When he finally gets far enough away he turns on Pidge.

“What did you do?” Lance hisses at her, and Pidge rolls her eyes with a scowl as she brushes the dirt off of her arm where his dirt covered hands had left some behind. 

“Simply explained what I meant when I said Terra, is that a problem?” Pidge says, and although her eyes aren’t turned towards Lance, he hears the challenge in her voice easily enough. 

“Depends on what you said.”

“Only Terrans know that Ballad Lance, it isn’t exactly common knowledge this far away from the country it originated from.” Pidge says. 

“So how do you know it?” Lance questions, but judging on the last thing she said, he feels he already knows. 

“Because I’m from Terra too, well. Sort of.” Pidge says, tilting her head with her lips twisted to the side. 

“And that means?”

“It means I’m Terran, but I wasn’t born on Terran land. I was born on a ship on the way to Olkarion.” Pidge says. Lance raises an eyebrow. 

“And why were you born on the way to Olkarion?” Lance asks, tense and afraid of what her answer will be. Pidge drops the brush with a huff, turning towards him with arms crossed. 

“Because my father was enlisted in tracking down the runaway Prince.” Pidge says. 

Lance swallows thickly but keeps his face impassive. “And did your father ever find him?”

“Never got the chance, he and my older brother were taken. They disappeared two years and a year ago respectively.” Pidge explains. “That’s why I stowed away on your ship, it was the only way off the island without my mother dragging me back home right after. Now it’s my turn to ask the questions.”

“Oh really?” Lance hums, trying to sound amused but coming off more tense and strained than he had hoped. 

“What do you know of the runaway Prince?” Pidge asks, and Lance wants to sigh in relief when she doesn’t imply she knows who Lance is. 

“He’s a prince, and he ran away.” Lance responds simply.

“You know,” Pidge starts, slowly turning towards him to face him directly. “I’ve practically memorized every detail my father knew of the prince.”

“And those details are?” Lance asks, standing tall and crossing his arms to hide his trembling hands. 

“Born to a woman not of noble blood, out of wedlock, who already had a family of her own. He was exceptionally gifted with water magic, specializing in Ice Magic by the time he was ten. He ran away when he was thirteen. My father was a scholar and confidant of the king, so he sent my father off across the dividing sea after the prince. He took his wife and six year old son with him, conceiving a daughter, me, on the ship they took, and giving birth to me on the ship as well.” Pidge said. She starts pacing slowly in front of him as she rants, voice getting more and more blinded by fury the longer she speaks.

“My father spent years trying to find the Prince, and then one day he went missing. So my brother tried to look for him, and he went missing too. So it was my turn, even as my mother forbade me from going after my father and brother. And here I am, standing across from another Terran.” Pidge stops pacing to jab a finger into Lance’s chest as she hisses. “What a _coincidence.”_

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance asks nervously. 

“Tell me the truth, are you Prince Alejandro?” Pidge demands in a silenced hiss. Lance can’t stop the flinch that comes when he hears that name again. Second time in twenty four hours. Lance wishes he could blame someone else right now, but it was his decision to tell the story for Kogane. 

Last time he _ever_ opens up.

“I see, so it’s true.” Pidge says, leaning back and locking her fiery amber eyes on him from behind those too big glasses. “You are the prince.” Lance swallows thickly.

“I never said that.” 

“Never denied it either.” Pidge snaps back the moment Lance speaks. 

“What do you want from me?” Lance demands.

“Answers. Why were you trying so hard to keep your past a secret, why haven’t you told Hunk?” Pidge demands. 

“Did you?” 

“Tell Hunk? No, I needed confirmation first. All I said to them was that you and I are both from the country of Terra, that’s it.” Pidge says. “Now answer me, why were you hiding your past?”

“What about you little miss know it all? Who are you?” Lance snaps. “You know my real name, I think it’s only fair you give me a quid pro quo here.”

Pidge twists her lips to the side. “Katie. I’m Katie Holt, but I’ve been called Pidge nearly my entire life.”

“Why?”

“Because Katya is not exactly a this-side-of-the-sea type of name, and Katie is the nickname for it. Also, neither is Alejandro, which is why you chose Lance, right? Still slightly out of place but at least it’s not so exotic as Alejandro or Katya.” Pidge explains, and Lance isn’t happy at how right she is about his birth name. 

“So?” Lance asks, raising an eyebrow. “What are you gonna do now that you know who I am?”

“Honestly, I don’t care that you ran away from your kingdom, you don’t seem like someone who would run away without a reason. All I care about is finding my family.” Pidge says. “But I won’t lie to Hunk for you. Keith, Adam, the rest of the crew, the entire world? I’ll keep your secret from them, but I won’t lie to Hunk. So either you explain who you are to him, or I will.”

“I can handle that.” Lance says with a sigh of relief. “I’ve been meaning to tell him, but I’ve never found the right time.”

“Well you better find the time soon, because if he asks me anything, I’m not gonna lie.” Pidge says. “He deserves better than that.” 

“I know.” Lance whispers. 

“Good, now go find a damn stream, you’re filthy.” Pidge says. She turns to head back to the campsite but Lance stops her with a gentle grip around her wrist. 

“Are we good?” Lance asks, desperately trying not to sound vulnerable. Lance doesn’t want to lose Pidge, or Hunk, they’re like family to him. Pidge eases her wrist out of his grip but she nods. 

“We’re good.” Pidge says, a small smile on her face. She disappears into the trees in the direction of the camp, and Lance breathes out the shaky breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He does as she demanded, leaving in search of a source of water, mainly to clean off but also to feel back in his element again. Water always had a natural way of relaxing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't piece anything together from this chapter: Terra is often used in fiction, mainly sci-fi, as another word for Earth. I made Terra his home country because it represents his connection to Earth in the original show, only difference being, Lance took his family with him, so he has no major homesickness, yet.


	35. Vision Overload

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance ends up having visions back to back.

Lance is tired, so damn tired. 

It’s only been a day (a day!) since his conversation with Pidge about some of his, and her own, past. Luckily Hunk hasn’t questioned them on anything, but he still tenses everytime Hunk opens his mouth. He can handle Kogane, or even Adam, questioning him, but Pidge said if Hunk asks her anything she won’t lie. He’s unsure whether that means just Hunk asking her directly, or if it includes indirect questions too. 

But that isn’t what has Lance so exhausted. 

It’s as if, now that someone he cares for so deeply knows a little bit of his past, his magic, the _new_ magic, thinks he should use it whether he wants to or not. The first vision of many in the last twenty four hours was in his sleep, paralyzing his body as he watches a building catch on fire, people Lance has never met burning to death beneath the flames. He managed to explain it off as a nightmare when Hunk shook him ‘awake’. 

The next one was in the middle of a hunt for breakfast. 

He was aiming for a few birds, who were drinking from a small stream, three arrows knocked at once and aimed at all three. He was just about to draw back and fire when the vision overtook his body, locking his arms in a drawback position on the bow. Which is not easy to do, and not pleasant either, because it strains your arm too much to hold that much tension. That vision was about a mugging in a back alley he doesn’t recognize, which ended up in the poor woman being slaughtered for her purse. 

When he snapped out of it, he accidently let the three arrows fly, even though his prey was long gone. He tries not to cry out when the cuts in his fingers from the bow string flare up as soon as he’s back to himself. He curses in his head as he wraps his fingers up tight, bleeding through the bandages. 

That was hard to explain away. 

The next vision took him by surprise in the middle of the ride, and his body was frozen in his saddle, unintentionally leading Rosebud almost straight into a tree while he was consumed by the vision. The vision itself wasn’t nearly as bad as the first two, but it was still something Lance wishes he’ll never have to witness again. While childbirth is a blessing and miracle, the actual act of pushing out a child from a vagina is not a pain he thought he would have to experience. 

Even if the pain was dulled by the vision, he still wanted to cry the moment the vision released him.

He explained that away as falling asleep in the saddle, but he doesn’t think anyone bought that one due to the concern in their eyes. 

Three more times. Three more times after the childbirth vision. He was the victim of a rape. He was a child drowning in an underwater current. He was a middle aged man suffering a heart attack. They all forced him to feel the pain of the strangers he’s watching die or suffer, and every single time he comes back to himself he’s even more affected than before. Now his skin is clammy, and his hands shake while he tries to tie Rosebud to a tree. His head hurts and he’s afraid to blink, afraid he’ll fall back into another vision. 

He doesn’t want this power. He doesn’t want to See anymore. 

A hand settles over Lance’s fumbling hands trying desperately to tie a knot in the lead so Rosebud can’t wander off while he sleeps. If he sleeps. The contact makes Lance jump, fear coursing through his veins as he tries to escape the oncoming vision. He can feel them now. Feel as they creep up on him slowly, forcing him to watch people he doesn’t know die or suffer. 

This time he’s forced into a vision of someone he knows, and the fear grows ever more as he watches through the eyes of King Alfor. 

He’s in the castle now, and his steps are heavy as Alfor rushes through one of the hallways at a run. He smells the smoke of a fire, and hears the sounds of battle. He knows, because Alfor knows, that the castle and the castletown are under heavy fire, the enemy being Daibazal. Lance fights the vision, trying not to sink so deep that he loses himself in Alfor, trying to keep his wits about him where he hasn't been able to before. 

The vision happens too fast, sped up almost, moving in fast forward. 

He watches a battle in the castle halls blur by, Altean soldier trying to fend off the unexpected onslaught. Civilian, soldier and servant bodies lay in heaps, making the once pristine white floors and the calming blue walls stain with red. Alfor ends up in the courtyard, and Lance sees Allura, her favorite dress town to shreds as she brandishes both a whip, and a collapsible, double bladed spear at the same time. The whip brings her enemies in close while the spear pierces through their chest.

Alfor backs up his daughter, the raging noise of war drowning out Allura’s scream of despair when it’s Alfor’s turn to be taken down. Lance, despite trying his damndest to stay impartial to the vision, to keep from succumbing to the pain of Alfor’s death, feels the force of the sword piercing between his ribs like he was the one just struck. Eventually Altea wins the battle, Alfor choking on his own blood with his body pinned to the ground by the sword. He feels it as Alfor raises his hand, jarring the sword and sending pain spiking through his body, and he places his hand on Allura’s cheek, leaving behind a bloody red handprint on her pale skin.

As soon as Alfor passes Lance is forced out of the vision so hard he collapses to his knees. 

Lance gasps desperately for breath, tears blurring his vision, hands clutching at his lower ribs where the sword pierced. In his out of mind state, he almost expects to feel blood gushing from his body, feel pain radiating through his body. Feel death clawing at his soul. 

Suddenly, Lance realizes _why_ the vision of Allura’s coronation didn’t show her smiling happily. 

He can’t let that happen. Losing her father in such a gruesome way would darken her heart, he just _knows_ it. And if her heart darkens like he knows it will if the vision comes to pass, then she will retaliate against Zarkon with vengeance on her mind, and she will lead both countries into a bloody war. A war that will decimate the entire continent, spreading to the two island chains, and wiping out half the Earth’s population.

Lance has to stop that vision from coming true. 

“McClain!” Kogane yells in his face, and Lance flinches, eyes flicking up into four sets of worried gazes locked onto his trembling form. He can’t keep them in the dark anymore, not after they witnessed such a horrific vision. Besides, he can’t prevent the vision from happening _alone._ He’ll need help, specifically, help from his friends and his crew, and all of his captains. 

“Lance, what just happened? Are you alright? Is it your injury from that arrow? Are you sick? Talk to me please!” Hunk says, speaking so fast even Lance’s head spins from how little breath hunk just used. Lance swallows, trying to speak, but only managing a weak croak, phantom pains left over from his vision rolling down his spine. 

“Come on, let’s sit you down by the fire and get you some water.” Kogane says, picking Lance up. Not helping him walk, picking him up, as in, holding Lance in bridal style. Lance’s brain short circuits from how easily Kogane just lifted him up. 

Kogane sets him down by the fire, and Lance can’t help but think he would have preferred Kogane’s embrace. He runs far hotter than the fire does, and with Kogane leaving his side the warmth drops just a little and makes him shiver. At least the fire is going or else he might have frozen to a popsicle. He downs the water flask he’s handed, grateful for the cool water, which wasn’t cool before Lance got a hand on it, but still.

“What just happened?” Kogane asks him seriously when Lance is done with the flask. “You were shaking when tying your mare, and then when Hunk touched you, you just went blank?”

Lance shivers again, scooting as close to the fire as he can without burning himself. It takes a minute for him to decide on whether he wants to explain things away again, but he needs to tell them if he wants a chance at preventing such a bloody war. Only question is, how does he even begin to explain? 

“Lance please. We’re all worried about you.” Adam says in a calm and even tone. Lance has come to realize that Adam is a naturally quiet and pensive person. When he speaks he always seems to draw people’s attention like a siren, no one unable to look away. Lance sucks in a slow breath, eyes locking onto the fire as Pidge drapes his blanket over his trembling shoulders. His mouth thins as he tries to find the words. “Lance what-”

“Wait.” Hunk says, cutting Adam off. “He’s trying to find the right words, just give him a second.”

Lance manages a small ghost of a smile before he frowns heavily. He hasn’t even hinted anything to Hunk, about anything. Lance kept this from him for so long, brushing off questions and worries, so now it’s going to hurt him a lot. Lance has told Hunk everything for years, ever since they first became good friends, before Hunk was promoted to First Mate, Lance has never kept a secret from Hunk. 

Until now. 

“I-” Lance says, pauses, clears his throat and starts again. “I have been keeping something from you, from all of you.” 

“Is it, you know?” Pidge asks with a raised eyebrow. Lance doesn’t need to hear the words to know her question and he shakes his head, then shrugs his shoulders. 

“Sort of, not really. It’s complicated.” Lance says and sighs, removing an arm from beneath his blanket to rub at his headache. “Alright, look. There’s a lot to say and it all needs to be said so keep your questions until the end.” 

This gets looks of concern shared between them all, but they nod in agreement. So Lance tells them everything, not holding back a single thing. He starts with Terra, his family and his princehood. He explains why he left, and how he left, and where he went and how he got there. They all watch and listen, eyes widening in varying degrees of shock and disbelief. Pidge knows most of that story already, but the details of why he left Terra has her eyebrows creasing in silent fury. 

Lance left because he was torn from his family to be a Prince and forbidden to speak to his mother or half siblings. 

“Wait so let me get this straight. You’re a prince?” Kogane demands, and Lance glares at him, making him fall silent again. 

“I’m not done.” Lance hisses, and then pulls the blanket tighter around himself before he continues. 

This is where Lance feels the most uncomfortable. He barely knows what’s going on himself, sharing this information with _anyone,_ let alone Kogane and Adam, makes his shoulders tense. But he pushes through it and explains, to the best of his ability.

“I’ve been seeing visions of the future, for a while now. Although I didn’t realize that’s what they were until Kogane hurt Pidge, and I saw it happen twice, once before hand, and then once for real. I was going to wait and maybe do some research about why I’m seeing these visions, but when I was shot with that arrow, I saw another vision.” Lance explains, and watches as all of their eyes widen, questions burning on their tongues. He explains what he saw in the vision with Roya, even the part about where he’s supposedly her descendant. He doesn’t say anything about the list of people she told him to keep close, deciding not to reveal that just yet. 

“So you’re a descendant of Roya?” Pidge asks. Lance sighs miserably. 

“I’m not done.” Lance mutters. He watches Hunk and Pidge both frown deeply with hurt in their eyes when they realize there’s _more_ Lance has kept from them.

This time, he explains all the visions he’s had in the past twenty four hours, curling into himself as he recalls all of them, even the one about King Alfor. 

“That’s why I’ve decided to tell all of you now, instead of waiting to know more.” Lance finally finishes off. “I can’t stand by and let Allura lose her father so brutally.”

There’s a brief silence when Lance finishes what he has to say, pulling the blanket around himself as tightly as possible. 

“Oh you’re done now?” Hunk says, and Lance flinches from the passive aggressive tone he takes. Hunk isn’t happy, just like Lance predicted. 

“Yeah. Yeah I’m done. I’m pretty sure I’ve said everything.” Lance says. That’s a lie, he knows there’s more things he hasn’t told them. Things about his Captains, things about his relation to Allura, how he became a pirate in the first place. But in the scheme of things, Lance doesn’t deem it a dire conversation to be had. 

“So. When were you gonna tell me all of this? Or were you just not gonna say anything at all? If you hadn’t had that vision right in front of us, would you have said anything?” Hunk asks, voice becoming more hostile with every word. Barely contained rage dances behind those dark brown eyes, making them almost black in color as they stare Lance down. 

Lance breaks eye contact and stares at the ground, unwilling to say the truth out loud. 

No, no if it wasn’t for having that vision just now, he never would have said anything about his Spirit magic. Would have given the bare minimum about his place as a runaway prince. Would have kept secrets for much longer than a mere few months. 

“I see.” Hunk says quietly, and Lance bites his lip at the cold monotone of Hunk’s voice. Lance hurt him a lot more than he had anticipated. 

“So. That’s why you ran huh?” Pidge says, finally changing the topic back to the things Lance had said. He’s grateful for the ease of the tension between him and Hunk, even if it will only last briefly. Lance nods to her. “Well then, I guess I won’t have to fulfill my father’s duty and drag you home then.”

Lance had also explained Pidge's part in the story, so there’s no questions about what she just said. 

“How long have you been seeing visions?” Pidge asks, not letting the silence stew for too long. Somehow they both know that if it’s silent for too long, Lance is gonna run away from his problems, because that’s what he does. He runs away like a coward. 

“Those things you guys call my ‘knowings’, all of my trials, those times where I seem to react to something before it happens. Those are all a part of this magic. I just didn’t realize it until after the more clear visions started happening.” Lance says. Pidge nods, already asking more questions, one after the other, not letting him answer one at a time. 

“Have you tried making a vision happen on purpose? What’s your limit before you have to pay a price like Priestess Roya did? When you see visions, what is it like? Are you a bystander watching it all objectively or are you immersed into the vision like you’re actual there? Or is it like something else? Are all of your visions about death or pain or suffering? Do you know when those visions will happen and where or not? What about visions of yourself? Do you have those? Are you a bystander or what when the vision is of you?” Pidge asks, kind of overwhelming Lance as she fires them at him like bullets. He tries his best to answer all of her questions in order.

“I’ve only made one happen on purpose once, and it was when Kogane and I were making that deal, and no, I will not say what I saw. I don’t know any of my limits, and when I have a vision the type kind of varies. Sometimes I’m watching it like a memory in my head, overlapped on what I’m actually looking at in the flesh and I can differentiate between the two. Sometimes I become so immersed that I forget that I’m Lance, and not the person I’m envisioning.” Lance explains. His eyebrows crease as he tries to remember her other questions. “I don’t know when or where they will be unless I recognize the surroundings myself, as Lance. And visions of myself are usually played as memories, but I’m not sure if that’s all the time or not. Sorry, that’s all the questions I can remember.” 

Pidge waves him off, hands steepling beneath her chin as she looks at him with the kind of crazed curiosity a mad scientist might have at their experiments. He isn’t sure if he should be afraid of that look or not.

“Try forcing a vision right now.” Pidge says. Lance’s eyebrows shoot skyhigh at that, expecting more questions. He only _just_ came out of a vision, a particularly traumatic and painful one at that. And she wants him to force himself to see another? “I want to see if I can get you to describe your vision as it’s happening, and if not, I want to know how two visions back to back affect your body. I also want to know what I should look out for in the future should you happen to have a vision, say, mid fight?”

It sounds a little cruel, but, at the same time, he guesses it makes sense. Knowing these things about his new magic should be helpful to control them.

“Uh, okay, but about what?” Lance asks. “Do you want me to force a random vision of the future forth or something?”

Pidge tilts her head. “Yes, this time. Maybe tomorrow we can try a pinpointed vision, something specific, but right now I just want any vision.”

Lance doesn’t like the way she says that. Like he’s a lab rat. It makes him uncomfortable but he shrugs it off and takes a deep breath, keeping his eyes open as he tries to force a new vision on himself. He secretly tries to envision something happy, not something filled with pain or death or suffering. 

It takes a minute, but soon that feeling crawls up his spine again, the feeling of an oncoming vision. This time the feeling is slow, whereas usually he only gets a half a second to know it’s coming before he’s sucked into a vision. Now though, he _watches_ the vision descend on his mind. Watches as the campsite he’s looking at dissolves slowly from the edges of his vision until it reaches the center. 

He stays Lance just long enough for the last push, and then he’s falling into another vision.


	36. Testing Testing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Pidge try to guide and control McClain's vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you guys are gonna LOVE the next chapter!

Keith witnesses the change in McClain this time. Instead of one moment being Lance, and the next moment being blank, this time he witnesses the change in McClain’s face. His eyes slowly gloss over, his tense face relaxing in small movements until his face is slack, the grip he has on his blanket slackening but stilling. Keith curiously removes the blanket from McClain’s grip, surprised that his hands don’t move, as if he’s still holding the blanket around him. 

He is disturbingly still, like a statue. Pidge scoots forward when the glossiness becomes a complete fog over his eyes, like he had gone blind, his usual brightly colored irises pale in comparison. 

“Lance, can you hear me?” Pidge asks. No response. She tries again. “Lance what do you see?”

No response. Pidge purses her lips and hums, then sets her hand against McClain’s shoulder. “Lance what is happening?”

This time there is a response, McClain’s still foggy eyes blinking once where they hadn’t been blinking before. It’s not much, but Pidge seems to take it as incentive to continue. She lays both hands on McClain’s shoulders and kneels in front of him. 

“What do you see?” Pidge asks, and Keith watches in surprise as McClain speaks in monotone. No inflection of emotion whatsoever, not even to indicate pain. 

“A wedding.” McClain says simply, and it seems that’s as far he will answer that question. Pidge begins getting more specific in her wording, testing out how she has to speak to him in this state for a proper response. 

“Describe everything.” Pidge says. No response, too vague. Keith scoots forward, grabbing McClain’s bicep to try it himself. Pidge pulls away to give Keith a shot.

“Do you recognize anyone at the wedding?” Keith asks, and he gets a response.

“Pidge. Keith. Lance. Allura. Romelle. Alfor. Rax. James. Ryan. Nadia. Ina-” McClain starts saying, listing off names, some he recognizes others he doesn’t. He’s a little shocked that he mentioned his own name, but that must mean he’s immersed with someone else in the vision, someone he knows or will know. 

“Stop.” Keith says, to stop the listing of unfamiliar names. Instead he asks, “Who are you?”

“Shay.” McClain answers, and Hunk sucks in a breath at that. Keith keeps up with this line of questioning. 

“Who is the bride?” 

“Me.” McClain answers, and it’s weird hearing him answer about being a bride and not a groom. 

“Who is the groom?”

“Hunk.”

This makes them all turn towards Hunk whose face turns bright red in embarrassment. He doesn’t say anything. Just turns his head away and motions for them to continue. 

“Hold on I want to try something real quick.” Pidge says, and Keith moves back so she can lay a hand on his shoulder and ask him questions. 

“You are Katya Holt, and it is your twentieth birthday. Where are you?” Pidge asks, making Keith’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. Is she trying to force the vision to change while he’s in it? Is that safe?

No response. Did it not work?

“What are your hands touching?” Pidge asks, a lot more specific this time. 

“Bouquet of flowers.” Okay so still in the vision of Hunk’s wedding. Keith grabs Pidge’s attention and they switch places. He’s gonna try to change his vision this time. 

“The Arena, Daibazal. You are Takashi Shirogane. What are you doing?” Keith tries. McClain sucks in a breath, face creasing in pain before falling flat again. Keith deflates when McClain doesn’t answer for a moment. 

“I’m eating stale bread and mush.” McClain says, and that is most certainly not a meal they would serve at a wedding. Which means it worked! Keith barely contains his adrenaline spike at succeeding. 

“What is around you?” Keith asks with bated breath. 

“Cold metal walls. Cold metal floor. Magic cancelling bars. Grate on the floor. Chains on my wrists and ankles.” McClain says, and Keith hears Adam’s low whine of pain behind him. Keith stays focused, trying to find out if his brother still lives or not, if he’s injured. He swallows and presses on. 

“What day is it?” Keith asks, desperately hoping Shiro can keep up with his days in there. 

“The day of red moon.” McClain’s voice says, and now he’s slurring, those foggy eyes slipping half way shut. Keith doesn’t know if that’s a sign he’s waking from the vision or not, but he tries to hurry the questions along, they’ll find out what the day of the red moon means later. 

“Are you injured?” 

“Face hurts, swelling. Probably black eye. Nose cut aches. Phantom pains in my missing arm. Twisted ankle. Hunger pangs. Split lip. Headache.” McClain lists off, still slurring. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Tired. So tired. Lonely. I miss Keith. And Adam. I really miss Adam. And Keith. My heart hurts.” McClain says, and he sounds dazed. Didn’t McClain say he felt the pain of King Alfor’s death? Is he feeling the same pain as Shiro? If that’s true, then that might not be a headache. Lance’s eyes suddenly snap open in alarm before settling back into the black face he had started with. 

“What just happened?” Keith asks desperately, fighting to keep control of his emotions. Even in pain and starving, Shiro still doesn’t blame Keith. Still loves Adam. 

“Loud noises. So many loud noises. I wish they would be a little quieter.” 

“Can you make out what the loud noises are from?” Keith asks. McClain’s eyebrows crease before easing again into that eerily blank expression. 

“Sounds like fighting. That’s weird, they already rotated the prisoners for the night. Oh wait, I recognize that voice.” McClain says. “Hey Keith is here, maybe we’ll get to visit. Unless the kid did something dumb to be thrown in here with me. I wouldn’t put it past him. Never could get rid of that temper of his.” 

Keith’s mouth twitches into a sad smile before dropping in concern. The way McClain is speaking, it’s like he’s voicing Shiro’s thoughts, which sound dazed and confused. That’s worrying, but the fact that Keith is there must mean McClain is witnessing the rescue. 

Keith is about to ask another question when those pale eyes suddenly brighten on a gasp and McClain lurches forward in pain. His once frozen hands launch to his head as he groans. 

“What did you do?” McClain moans out, fingernails denting into his skull. 

“I’m sorry. I wanted to see if I could change the vision by suggesting something.” Pidge says, taking full blame, even if Keith’s the one who sent him into another vision.

“Head hurts so bad.” McClain whines, tears slipping out of his eyes. Pidge leans forward and uses her healing magic to ease the ache in McClain’s head, and Keith is suddenly slammed with guilt at making him have two visions at once. 

“I’m so sorry McClain. I didn’t realize it would hurt so bad.” Keith apologizes, but McClain just whimpers as the headache is healed. When he opens his eyes they’re glassy from tears instead of another vision.

“Do you remember us asking questions Lance?” Pidge asks when McClain finally calms down. He shakes his head. 

“I just remember focusing on strange things people usually don’t focus on during those types of situations. I mean, Shay was walking down the aisle and instead of staring at Hunk, she was listing off everyone she knew who was there. And Shiro was so out of it he shouldn’t have been able to focus on anything, let alone specific details of his cell.” McClain explains with a wince, rubbing the back of his head in sympathy to Shiro.

“Okay, anyone know what the day of the red moon is?” Adam asks. 

“Easy, it’s a lunar eclipse.” McClain says, his voice tired as he slumps forward. “The next one is in a month or two I think, I don’t remember. Sometime around there.”

“Lance, if I may ask.” Adam starts, waiting for McClain to wave him on. “What made you leave the vision this time?”

McClain raises his head with a strange look on his face. “I don’t know, I just know all of a sudden I was cold, then things went black and then I was gasping for breath as pain seared into my skull like a branding iron.”

“That’s graphic.” Pidge says with a wince. McClain shrugs. 

“So are most of my visions, welcome to the club.” McClain says, swaying- not standing, swaying- to his feet as he stumbles towards his horse. 

“Where are you going?” Keith asks as he watches McClain swing the bow and quiver over his shoulders. 

“Hunting, might be a while.” And then McClain stumble-walks into the forest. Keith isn’t sure if he should go after him or not. 

“Let him be.” Hunk says as Keith starts easing up out of his spot. “He can handle hunting, it might even help him calm down from so many visions in one day.”

Keith doesn’t stop worrying until McClain stumbles back to camp later than usual with a handful of small animals. McClain passes the animals off to Hunk and then promptly curls up on the ground and is out like a light, sleeping so deeply it looks like he’s dead with how much he doesn’t move. Keith subtly sits next to McClain’s shivering form during dinner, increasing his body heat enough to not catch on fire, but to ease away the shivering of McClain’s shoulders.

Keith ends up taking watch all night, eyes locked on McClain and ears strained for any change in his breathing.


	37. Little Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has a vision he is entirely unprepared for.

After sleeping well into midday, Lance doesn’t want to wake up.

He was lucky enough to not be dragged into another vision in his sleep, his perpetual coldness gone for what feels like the first time in forever, in fact. Not only was he not cold, he was _warm._ That’s a _miracle._ Not all water mages who specialize with ice are afflicted with the cold twenty four seven, but for some reason Lance can’t ever get warm. 

Until last night. 

He wonders what was different. Was he just so exhausted that he couldn’t feel cold? Did he have a fever? But Lance doesn’t get hot even when he’s sick, in fact it’s like he just gets even colder than before. Whatever it was, Lance fights to keep the warmth instead of waking up and being cold again. He loses the fight, and grudgingly opens his eyes. 

The sun pierces his eyes where the leaves don’t hide the sky, and Lance yawns and stretches without moving from his place on the ground. 

His hands knock into a body, and he flits his gaze up to find Kogane sitting beside where he had been sleeping. He looks for the others, but Hunk, Pidge and Adam are nowhere to be found. Lance casts his gaze back up to Kogane, who looks down at him with a strange expression Lance can’t read. He yawns again. 

“Were you that close to me all night?” Lance mumbles, curling up again, to stay in the warmth of Kogane’s body heat. 

“Uh, yes? Is that, is that a problem?” Kogane stutters. Lance hums, scooting closer but staying just far enough away that he doesn’t touch. Oh now that’s a thought, how warm would Lance be if he touched Kogane? How warm would he be if they _hugged?_

“Nope, you’re warm. I like warm.” Lance says, slurring. His mind is still sluggish, the warmth of Kogane’s fire and his body heat making him drowsy all over again. He doesn’t think he could sleep anymore, but if that warmth stays much longer, he just might. 

“What are you doing?” Kogane asks, just as Lance gets a little closer. Kogane shifts, and unintentionally brushes Lance’s arm with his thigh. 

The vision hits him so hard he has no warning. 

It’s dark, extremely dark, but there’s firelight dancing behind whatever is blocking Lance’s vision. For the first split second, Lance is separated from the vision, but as soon as he realizes who owns those violet eyes he’s forced to participate so closely he almost forgets who he is. 

_Keith’s_ (Keith?) _eyes melt him, looking over his body with a kind of hunger he’s never seen. Something animalistic. Something wild. It sets his skin on fire, makes him hot for something, for anything. He wants Keith to stop staring and touch him, run his hands down his body, drive him mad with pleasure._

 _“Please.” A breathy voice asks_ (It takes Lance a moment to realize the person he’s seeing through said it). _“Please Keith, I can’t take anymore. I need you.”_

_“Shhh.” Keith whispers, and he shivers as Keith caresses his face with the back of his hand, running knuckles down his neck gently, slowly. Pressing a palm against the center of his chest and dragging down, down, down over his stomach. His stomach muscles twitch with the light, feathery touch of calloused fingers. Worn rough over years of wielding swords like another limb. “Quiet now, I’ll take care of you.”_

_(Oh dear gods, I know what’s happening now,_ Lance thinks to himself.)

_Keith's voice is like honey, his eyes predatory as his head dips._

_He watches, eyes never leaving Keith’s as that head of wild black hair, that of which is usually tied back with a leather strip, but right now is loose and framing those hungry eyes in such a beautiful picture, moves lower. His head snaps back as Keith’s teeth digs into his hip, right over where the waistline of his pants are._ (This is so inappropriate, and a breach of privacy, get me out!)

_He gasps desperately for more._

_Keith smiles a wicked smile, something that excites him, makes his body flush and arousal stir beneath the pants he wears. “Now, be patient little Serpent. I’m trying to enjoy this.”_

(What!? Serpent!? Don’t tell me-)

 _He whimpers_ (Whimpers!?) _as those tantalizing teeth hook onto his pants, dragging them down slowly, Lance lifting his hips up to help the path Keith makes. The action makes a dark chuckle escape Keith’s lips, even with the fabric held in his mouth._ (Oh god, what’s happening?)

 _“I like it when you’re under me Lance.” Keith says as he tosses the pants away._ (Kill me now.)

_“Don’t get cocky on me now.” Lance teases, raising his leg and pulling Keith in close for a deep kiss, biting at Keith’s lips in the way he likes, the way that drives the mighty Dragon to his knees. Keith groans into his mouth, then pulls away and nips at Lance’s neck, making him arch upwards with a gasp._

_“Pot meet kettle.” Keith snarks, running a hand down Lance’s exposed thigh, reaching back to grip the ankle hooked around his hip and pulling it away, using both hands to spread Lance’s legs for Keith’s viewing pleasure. “That’s a little better.” Keith murmurs into the skin of Lance’s hip, sucking a bruise to match the one he made with his teeth on the other hip._

(Oh no.)

_Lance arches when that mouth, sinful and dirty, wraps around Lance’s-_

Lance snaps out of the vision with a gasp, face lighting up in a blush. He’s out of breath, mortified, and he launches away from Kogane with a squeak. He doesn’t look back at him as he darts as far away as possible, shivering when the cold returns all of the sudden. 

“McClain? Is everything alright? Did you just have a vision?” Kogane asks in worry, standing up from the ground clumsily. Lance doesn’t even look at him, unable to keep from picturing that vision so vivid in his mind. 

“Lance?” Pidge asks as the three of them emerge from the trees, all of their hair dripping from what must have been a soak in the nearby creek. “You had a vision?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Lance huffs, trying to hide his flushed face. 

“What was it about?” She asks again.

“Nothing.” 

“Oh great, so we’re back to keeping secrets are we?” Hunk says, and Lance can’t even flinch from the hostility, he just buries his face in his hands with a mortified groan. 

“Trust me, Hunk. This vision is not one anyone else should see, gods I shouldn’t have even seen it!” Lance cries out in mortification. 

“What was it about that’s got you so red in the face?” Pidge asks curiously as she runs a towel through her wild wet hair. Lance lets out another mortified groan, not removing his hands from his face. He can still feel Kogane’s phantom touch on his skin, and he turns away in case the mere thought of the memory of the vision turns him on. 

Dear gods he’s screwed.

“Just answer the damned question Lance!” Hunk huffs. 

Lance mumbles his answer out. 

“What?” Pidge asks. 

“I was having a vision of two people having sex okay!?” Lance says, unwilling and unable to elaborate. Pidge and Hunk’s mouths drop in shock, and Lance nearly jumps out of his skin as Kogane bursts into laughter. He buries his face again. 

“That’s-” Kogane gasps between gargled laughter. “That’s hilarious!”

“I hate you all!” Lance whines, stomping his foot and eyeing the ground. 

Pidge cackles at him, not even bothering to hide her glee at his misery. Lance huffs, snatching up his bow and quiver with a few grumbled curses under his breath as he rushes off to try to find food. The vision plays on loop through his mind as he tracks and hunts, screwing up his focus on staying silent as he walks carefully over the forest floor. His affinity may be with the sea, but Blaytz, his old Captain, made sure to teach Lance thoroughly in every aspect of survival. 

Hunting, tracking, fishing. Reading the stars at sea or in the desert, reading the moss on trees. 

Blaytz trained him in the art of the sword, showing him how to properly fletch arrows. How to carve a bow with not but what you find in the wilderness. Eventually let Lance learn how to weild a gun, despite that the weapon is extremely hard to procure, since it’s still new and therefore expensive. Or it was at the time. 

Lance finds focusing on memories he made himself chases away the memories of what his Spirit magic decides to show him. 

Like how rough Kogane’s hands were against Lance’s skin. How hot that mouth had been as he sucked bruises into Lance’s hips. That sinful voice, that wicked smile. Those burning hot violet eyes. The unruly mane of hair. 

_Fuck._

Lance trudges back to camp, having barely accomplished anything more than catching a small breakfast. His face still burns in embarrassment. His mind still catches on thoughts of Kogane’s sexiness within the vision. 

Lance isn’t sure what shocks him the most. 

Lance having sex with Kogane. Lance bottoming for Kogane. Lance and Kogane calling each other by their first names. Or Lance finding himself thinking about Kogane as attractive aside from the vision. 

Like, he’s not blind, he knows beauty when he sees it.

Lance just never considered that his rival, his enemy, could ever be anything more than that. An enemy. Now they’re, what? Allies? Friends? Future lovers? Enemies? Lance is so confused about everything now. 

Kogane is attractive, of course, Lance can admit that. Sinfully so, actually. Like, no one should look that good in so much red, and boy have they taken their color schemes to extreme lately. The Serpent is blue. The Dragon is red. Somehow they’ve not only fallen into that role, but accepted it wholeheartedly and then some. Now all Lance owns is blue in varying shades. It’s kind of embarrassing. 

Kogane is unnaturally attractive in red.

Kogane’s hair is thick, fluffy even. Dark black like he dipped his hair into an oversized ink pot, and the ink never really washed away. It’s so long he can tie it back to the back of his neck in a ponytail, with long black strands framing his violet eyes. 

Oh man, and his eyes. 

Lance has described them as violet many times before but they’re so much more than that. There’s a darkness in his eyes that consumes the color when he’s angry, or focused. It turns his eyes into a deep black, like the ocean on a moonless night. And when he’s happy, or excited, they brighten up, becoming almost lilac in color. 

And _yes,_ they _are_ two different colors. 

The violet of Kogane’s eyes is always a sharp, attention drawing color. But when they turn lilac his entire face softens to match the softening shade of his eyes. And when his eyes turn black, his face becomes thunderous to match the thunderous eyes. 

_Wait, what the hell am I thinking about?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a few chapters ahead of what's posted, but I just wanted to celebrate that as of the last chapter I've written (Ch 40 i think?) I've breached the 100k mark! I'm so excited!


	38. Three Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McClain and Keith share a room.

Keith wants to growl in frustration. 

McClain is doing the...the _thing_ again! The thing he always does. The thing where he’s nice one minute, closed off the next. He was literally trying to cuddle Keith yesterday morning, and it’s been an entire two days now, and Keith can’t even manage to draw McClain’s eyes towards him in a glare. Let alone to get him to say two words to Keith. 

_Oh,_ but he’s _perfectly fine_ talking to everyone else, McClain just won’t talk to _him._

Keith really shouldn’t be so affected, but he is dammit! What did Keith do wrong this time? Was it something he said? Something he did? Something he _will_ do? He just doesn’t understand. It’s like he’s constantly being yanked back and forth when it comes to McClain. He’s surprised he hasn’t developed whiplash already. 

Keith stews in frustration and anger at the back of the group as they ride on, almost to the next town, which is where Keith came into contact with Ezor.

McClain is happily chatting away with Hunk, who has started being nicer to McClain lately. Keith can see the joy in the Serpent’s face everytime Hunk talks to him. Pidge and Adam are both quiet, in fact, Keith thinks Pidge is passed out in the saddle. 

He stews silently all the way into town, and they avoid the main square, at McClain’s direction. Which is a good idea, he isn’t sure if Ezor is still on this side of the mountains anymore or not, and he’d rather put off the Empire finding out about his change of sides. It makes Keith tug his cloak’s hood lower on his head, having tied his hair back while McClain ignored him this morning. He tugs the cloak sides closer to his body to hide his signature red coat, and his recognizable twin swords. 

He can’t wait to get to an inn and just relax in the room all alone.

And perhaps the gods are listening to him, and decided to torture or reward Keith. He isn’t sure which one yet. But he sees the opportunity and he snatches it up for better or for worse. Probably for worse, but he’s about to get the answers he wants, whether McClain wants to give them up or not. 

“What do you mean you only have three rooms?” McClain asks in dismay. Innkeep shrugs. 

“Take it or leave it kid.” 

“Take it. We’ll take the rooms.” McClain says. Keith takes the chance as McClain haggles with the Innkeeper about price to lean into Adam’s ear.

“Do me a favor, when the moment comes, bunk with Hunk. Pidge will get her own room no doubt.” Keith whispers, keeping his face passive when McClain chances a glance back. 

Adam leans into him to reply. “Do I wanna know why you want to room with Lance?”

Keith whispers beneath his breath and through gritted teeth, “Bastard is ignoring me, and I’m about to find out why. Please.” 

“Okay.” Adam whispers back, and they separate. Adam is too good to Keith.

“Alright.” McClain says as he comes, tucking his coin pouch back into his inner breast pocket, the one that matches where Keith keeps his little dragon figurine while travelling. “So we have three rooms, and food for us to stay two days, as well as food and a place in the stalls for our horses. Pidge will have her own room of course.”

“Sweet.” Pidge smiles.

“And as for the other two-”

“I’m rooming with Hunk.” Adam says before McClain even gets a chance to finish speaking. His mouth drops down in shock, as does Hunk’s. Hunk, on the other hand, recovers quickly and smiles widely. 

“Sounds like fun!” Hunk says, not sounding at all distressed at the strange turn of events regarding roommates. He claps a hand on Adam’s shoulder and the two walk upstairs in quiet conversation. Pidge quickly follows behind, sensing the hurricane about to come down when McClain’s shock fades and he turns angrily to who clearly set this up. Keith smirks, snatches the last room key, makes sure McClain sees the triumphant look he sports, before retreating upstairs to their room. 

Keith hears McClain splutter out protests and profanities before his stomping footsteps follow behind him. 

Keith swings into his and McClain’s room, shutting the door behind him and flopping back onto one of the beds, his pack hitting the floor beside him. He reaches in and pulls out a piece of jerky, chewing on it as he pulls his hair out of it’s leather strap, the cloak he wears splayed across the bed as much as Keith himself does. He manages to prop one leg up before McClain slams the door open with a glare to kill. 

Finally, at least McClain can’t escape him now. 

They’ll be in their rooms for a few hours, all of the others probably taking time before dinner to wash up properly, instead of having to rinse off in a freezing cold stream. Keith doesn’t intend to do so just yet, and he won’t let McClain run off to do so either. Not until he gets his damned answers. 

“You planned this didn’t you?” McClain seethes as he kicks the door shut behind him, dropping his bag onto the floor as carelessly as Keith had, except McClain’s flops onto the side and spills out half of his things. Keith idly takes note of the little serpent figurine and a journal spilling out completely. Keith mockingly takes a bite out of his jerky with a smirk. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about McClain.” Keith says, playing coy, trying to rile the Serpent up. It works beautifully. McClain’s face turns red hot as he grits his teeth and his clenched hands shake like he’s holding back from strangling him. 

Good. An angry Serpent is a chatty Serpent. 

“You are so lucky we’re in town, or I swear I would-”

“Would what?” Keith taunts, keeping his lazy position, despite his muscles tensing up in preparation for a showdown of wills. Or fists. At least McClain is talking to him. McClain seals his lips tight to muffle the scream of anger he makes. Oh if he had Keith’s fire magic, that man would be breathing fire right out now. 

Keith fights a shiver when the temperature drops suddenly. 

_Ah, so a magic showdown is what he wants? Bring it on McClain._

Keith raises his body heat, not quite letting the magic take physical form, but letting the room heat up quickly. He still doesn’t move from his lazy position, taking another bite of his jerky and keeping his eyes locked with McClain’s. McClain fights back by leeching the heat from the room, and Keith retaliates by making himself and the room hotter. 

A banging on the door makes them both drop their magic and snap their heads to the door, McClain almost certainly straining his neck in doing so. 

It opens up without either of their permission to reveal a disgruntled Pidge with a towel and clean pair of clothes in her arms, amber eyes glaring at them over the rim of her too big glasses. Pidge’s face is screwed up in a scowl as she looks at them both, one after the other and back again. 

“Would you two quit with your pissing contest already? I could feel your magic flaring up all the way down the hall, act like adults and talk shit out like normal people or so help me, every God ever known to man cannot prevent me from sending both of you into a world of hurt!” Pidge snaps, then with one last glare, grabs the doorknob and slams it shut, her tiny stomps disappearing down the hall.

Keith blinks at the closed door, then looks at McClain, who looks back at him, and they share a snort of laughter at Pidge’s grumpy face. 

“So.” McClain starts after a moment of silence. Keith returns to watching him quietly, expression blank. “Are you going to tell me why you convinced Adam to room with Hunk?”

“Are you gonna tell me why you avoided even looking at me for two days?” Keith fires back with hesitation. McClain narrows his eyes. 

“Seriously? You went through the trouble of convincing Adam to room with Hunk just for that?” McClain demands. 

“Wasn’t much convincing needed. I asked, he asked why, I told him, he agreed.” Keith says with a shrug. “And yes. Because you were literally cuddling up to me for warmth the other night, and then all of a sudden you wouldn’t even look at me.”

McClain’s face gets hot again, turning that tanned skin into a dark red. He bends down and gathers his spilled things from the floor, shoving them back in the bag and tossing his bag onto his bed, his body soon following. Keith keeps his eyes on him the entire time. 

“It’s not any of your business.” McClain eventually answers, staring holes into the door like he’s planning on making a run for it. Keith quickly sits up on his bed, easing to the foot of it, barely having his body on the cot so he can easily intercept if McClain tries to make a break for the door. 

McClain sees this and scoffs. 

“It very much is my business, because you’ve only ignored me, and that means you’re either mad at me for no reason again, or you’re mad at me for a reason. I deserve to know what’s got you so pissed off you won’t even look at me.” Keith says, and then he leans forward to put his face in McClain’s line of sight. “You’re not even looking at me right now. So what, what did I do to piss off the mighty Serpent _this_ time?”

“Don’t bring my nickname into this _Dragon._ It has nothing to do with you.” McClain hisses. 

“That’s a bold lie you’re spinning McClain. Too bad I don’t believe you.” Keith says casually. He takes another bite out of his jerky. When McClain doesn’t answer, Keith keeps pushing forward. “You know, you would think it would be me that’s emotionally constipated, not you. Covers and books as they say.” 

“I don’t like you.” McClain hisses at him, face burning bright again. Keith hums but doesn’t let up.

“I think that’s a lie too. I think you find me interesting.” Keith says, and it was a random guess, but he didn’t expect to hit the nail on the head when McClain obstinately turns to face the way, body and all. Now that’s curious. He’ll explore that one later. 

“Just tell me what has you avoiding me, and we can move on.” Keith prompts after too many minutes of silence. There’s a mumbling in a different language falling from McClain’s lips. Perhaps it’s Terran. Whatever language it is it rolls off his tongue, literally, curling the sounds in an almost sensual way. 

Fascinating. 

“I didn’t quite catch that.” 

“It was you okay? In the vision of two people having sex. I saw you and someone else.” McClain says, and Keith watches as that red flush spreads down the back of his neck to disappear down his shirt and coat and cloak. Keith quietly leans forward to see if he can follow the redness, and then leans away when he realizes what he’s doing. 

The words McClain says registers slowly, like another language altogether. 

_“That’s it?”_ Keith asks, and then fights back a snort of laughter. “You can’t look at me because you had a vision of me having sex?” 

“It’s not funny Kogane.” McClain grits out. Keith laughs out loud anyways, standing up and patting McClain’s shoulder while he uses his other hand to raise the hood of his cloak. 

“There, there, McClain. We’re both adults, sex is natural. Don’t be such a-” Keith says a word in Daibazalee, one that doesn’t translate well. It’s kind of an insult, but he means it in the most innocently teasing of ways. It catches McClain’s attention, and after tensing up beneath Keith’s hand he turns and sits up to look at him suspiciously. 

“What did you just call me?” McClain demands. 

“Doesn’t translate well, and besides. It’s more fun to make you try to figure it out.” Keith teases, reaching into his pack to draw out his towel and spare clothes and toiletries to go wash up in the inn’s communal bath house. 

“Kogane tell me what that word means!” McClain yells after him. Keith opens the door with a laugh. “Kogane don’t walk away from me dammit!” And then Keith closes the door, happily making his way downstairs to find the bath house, hood low to avoid being recognized, whistling a little tune.


	39. First and Second Lieutenants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance introduces the first two of his ten captains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's a good thing I'm a few chapters ahead because I got stuck on what to write next lol. No worries, I'm sure I'll figure it out!

The next few days for Lance are entirely uneventful. 

You know, if you don’t count the secretive, teasing smirks Kogane sends him every time Lance looks in his direction. Everytime Lance looks at Kogane he gives Lance a knowing look, and everytime without fail, Lance’s face erupts in a furious blush. 

Stupid visions, stupid Kogane, stupid brain. 

Every time he isn’t doing something that takes his focus, his mind travels back to the vision of Kogane. Not to any other vision he’s had. Not the one where Alfor is killed. Not the ones of strangers. No, always the one about Kogane and Lance having sex with such familiarity to each other, likely, that by the time that vision comes true it won’t have been the first time. 

It’s strange to think about sometimes.

Lance can’t help but wonder what happens to make them get involved in that kind of relationship. He didn’t even know Kogane was gay until the vision. Or maybe he’s bi? Like Lance? Why would Kogane even want to involve himself with Lance? The two of them have been rivals and enemies for years now. 

It baffles him. 

And also, Lance isn’t sure how he’s supposed to feel about being called ‘Little Serpent’ in bed. 

He barely likes his nickname as is, and it’s only because of Allura that the nickname came into existence in the first place. She came up with it when they were kids, right after Lance ran away from his princeship. Oh man does that bring back memories. 

He had used his magic to cross the sea, and was half dead when he came upon a ship being attacked by pirates. 

He didn’t realize at the time the ship under attack was a Royal Navy ship, but he had used what little of his magic he had left to force the two ships apart and put out the fires. It had been enough for the soldiers to regroup and go on the offensive and Lance had passed out on the top deck of the navy ship, in Allura’s arms, who had turned out to be a Princess. She had taken Lance back to Altea’s capital with her, having the doctors and healers nurse him back to health. 

He had stayed there for a few months, becoming pretty close to Allura, even though he refused to even speak. 

She had ended up calling him her Serpent Saviour, due to the fact that Lance had surged up from the sea out of nowhere encased in water and ice magic that resembled a serpent before he passed out in her arms. Somehow the staff caught wind of her little nickname for him, shortened it to Serpent, and then the name stuck. 

Allura had convinced him to join a Merchant’s guild, which he became bored of, and he eventually ended up on Blaytz's ship. 

Blaytz had taken him on as a protege, eventually promoting him to First Mate, since Blaytz was the kind of captain who hated sharing the spotlight so he didn’t have a First mate until Lance. After Lance was taught everything Blaytz knew, he was given the ship. And like was tradition with this particular pirate ship, Lance had to rechristen the ship with a new name as a sign of new ownership and new beginnings. 

Remembering Blaytz always gives him a sense of nostalgia. 

That man had been more of a father to Lance than the King of Terra ever was. Somehow, word got around about his nickname from the princess of Altea, and he became the Pirate Captain of the Serpent Lion, The Serpent himself, Lance McClain. 

Lance is so stuck in his memories that he doesn’t realize they’ve made it to the port town where his ship was docked until he lays eyes on his home. 

Turns out the crew told the truth, they refused to undock without Lance to guide their way. Lance looks over the flags of the other ships docked in the port town, and realizes that the Dragon’s Fire is nowhere to be seen. It makes him cock his head to the side in curiosity before he turns to Kogane. For once he isn’t given that knowing smirk that makes his face burn hot.

“Where’s your ship Kogane?” Lance asks. 

“I told them to go ahead without me, and that I would contact them when I was ready to reboard.” Kogane says. “Instead I’m going to contact my First Mate and tell her to be rid of any Empire lackeys that sail my ship and meet me wherever it may be that we go next.”

Lance raises an eyebrow as he dismounts, walking Rosebud along as they look for the nearest stable to hand her off. He’s going to miss his mare, but it isn’t practical to have a horse on a ship, and with how little Lance usually docks his ship, it would be too harsh on his lovely stolen mare. 

“Are you expecting to board my ship in peace Dragon?” Lance asks with a wicked smile. He knows his crew like he knows his own ice. They’re gonna tear the Dragon to pieces before ever letting him board. Lance could probably command them to be nice, but, where’s the fun in that?

“Uh,” Kogane says with uncertainty. “Yes?” 

“Lance stop messing with Keith.” Hunk says humorously, passing by Kogane with his own horse by his side. Lance pouts at that. Hunk never lets him have fun. 

Lance sighs and looks back towards his ship and the ships around it, eyes widening with excitement as he recognizes two very specific flags. He gasps out loud, unable to tamper his excitement. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Hunk asks with worried eyes. 

“James and Ryan are here! Come on let’s go, they’re probably at the tavern closest to port.” Lance says, already moving faster, almost running in his excitement. There’s noises of surprise as the others rush to follow, Lance moving through the crowd like a pro. He almost squeals in glee when he finally reaches the tavern, recognizing a few of James and Ryan’s crewmates. 

He ties his mare off to the horse stock and rushes inside without waiting for the others. 

He heads straight for the farthest part of the tavern, sure that that’s where James and Ryan will be. And sure enough there they are. James’ hair is longer than the last time Lance had seen him, cut shorter on the sides and hanging long at the bangs, his cowlick at his forehead sticking out. Ryan on the other hand is still wearing the same old undercut, but he’s grown taller and he’s filled out a lot more since their last meeting, his dark skin offset by the white peasant shirt he wears. Both of them are conversing over mugs of ale. 

Lance eases around the side of the crowd, sticking to the walls so he can get close without being spotted. 

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. A firebird and a blue jay.” Lance calls out as he saunters up next to them, smiling in amusement as both of their heads snap towards him, faces lighting up in bright grins. 

“About time the Serpent graced us with his presence!” James calls back to him over the noise of the crowd. They clasp arms and pull each other in for a half hug before Ryan drags him into a real hug, clapping him on the shoulder when they pull apart. 

“Come on! Let’s go somewhere quieter! There’s some friends I would like you both to meet!” Lance yells, and they knock back their ale, dropping a few gold coins on the table and flipping the empty mugs over the coins to hide them until a serving wench snatches them up. They follow close to Lance until they breach the crowd, almost stumbling out of the tavern doors. 

He almost runs head first into Kogane, who stumbles back and grabs onto his hood to keep his identity better hidden.

“Lance what’s going on? Who are they?” Pidge asks, gesturing behind Lance as James and Ryan exit the tavern. 

“Come on, let’s go somewhere more private before we introduce ourselves.” Lance says, untying Rosebud, practically buzzing in excitement as they move towards the small park down the street. 

“Jeez Cap, keep that up and people will start thinking you’re a drug addict.” James teases. 

“Ah shove it up your ass Griffin.” Lance says without dropping his smile. Ryan snorts in amusement. When they finally get settled in the park, tying off the horses to a nearby tree, loose enough the horses can graze happily, Lance can’t take the anticipation any longer. 

“Guys, this is Hunk, my First Mate, and Pidge, my protege.” Lance says, practically shoving them forward. “Introduce yourselves properly.” 

Surprise crosses James and Ryan’s faces, sharing a look with each other. Probably over the fact that Lance took on a protege. They don’t say anything thankfully. James steps forward first, snapping his heels together, his left arm poised at his lower back, right hand fisted over his heart. His head is held high, eyes staring forward almost blankly as he introduces himself. 

This isn’t actually something that Lance came up with, neither the salute nor the introduction, his captains came up with them on their own. 

“First Lieutenant James Griffin, Captain of the Diamond Majesty, head of the Majesty fleet.” James said, and Lance wants to snort at how formal it is. 

Ryan steps forward, saluting much the same. “Second Lieutenant Ryan Kinkade, Captain of the Pearl Majesty, Second in Command of the Majesty fleet.”

“Uh.” Adam says, looking between them in confusion. Lance ignores him and sets his hand on Hunk’s shoulder. 

“Hunk, salute back and repeat after me.”

“Come on Cap, you didn’t teach him the salute and introduction?” Ryan says, and even his voice is much deeper than Lance remembered. Lance rolls his eyes. 

“Hunk, repeat after me.” Lance says, and starts saying what Hunk would say in an official introduction. Hunk salutes clumsily, repeating Lance word for word. 

“First Mate Hunk Garrett, First Mate of Captain Lance McClain, Captain of the Serpent Lion, Head of the Majesty and Serenity Fleets.” Hunk says. He sounds unsure, but for a first introduction he’s passed with flying colors. James and Ryan both loosen from their stances and hold out their hands to shake. The official handshake Lance did come up with. 

Hunk goes to shake Ryan’s hand and Lance gently steers him towards James instead. “You shake with highest rank to lowest rank.” 

Hunk clasps James’ hand and James reaches up and slides both of their hands so that they’re grasping forearms instead. “We grasp forearms, not hands. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it all.” 

“I have no clue what’s going on.” Pidge says. 

“Ah, so this is the infamous protege.” James says, attention dragged down to Pidge’s shorter stature. Pidge flounders under the sudden pairs of eyes on her. 

“You didn’t tell us the youngling was so short.” James teases, raising a hand up to his shoulder and lowering it all the way to his waist as if to emphasize her shortness. Lance snorts as Pidge growls and kicks him in the knee for the teasing. James grunts in pain and crumbles to the ground with a wince. “Feisty.” James weases. 

“Keep it up Jay, that youngling will put you in your place.” Ryan snipes, dancing away from James’ wild swing at his kneecaps. 

“So what are you guys doing here?” Lance asks, settling down on a bench nearby and propping his foot up so he can lay his arm over his knee. 

“Tired of us already Captain?” James says with a fake expression of offense, opting to just relax back against the ground instead of getting up. 

“If I never see your ugly mug again James it would be too soon.” Lance shoots back at him, making Ryan let out a real laugh this time. 

“Shove it up your arse McClain.” James says, letting his Altean accent slip in for a moment. 

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re both here, I’m summoning all the captains to meet me somewhere neutral, somewhere Olkarion.” Lance says. It makes James sit up with shock, eyes wide and locked onto Lance.

 _“All_ of the captains? It must be serious.” James says. After a moment of silence he and Ryan share a look. “I’ll send out correspondence to the others and we’ll meet you back at your ship in a few hours.”

“Thanks James. That’s enough time for me to prepare to send off. Meet me in the war room, I’ll be sure to let my crew know to let you aboard if I’m not there to greet you myself.” Lance says. They both get up, grasp forearms and then he and Ryan start heading towards their ships to send out correspondence. 

“Let’s be done with this port, I’ve been on land far too much. I crave the sea.” Lance says, and they go about the things they need to do quickly and quietly. Lance sets it up so all four horses are taken back to the small village they first saved. Once the horse situation is cleared up he heads to his ship, greeted by enthusiastic cheers.

“Rolo!” Lance calls up to the crow’s nest.

“Yes Captain?” Rolo says behind him and he jumps with a screech. Rolo smirks with crossed arms, and Lance looks up at the crow’s nest in confusion, still seeing a pair of boots hanging off the side of the crow’s nest walls.

He shakes his head and turns back to Rolo. “I’m expecting guests by the names of James Griffin and Ryan Kinkade. When they arrive, send them to the war room. Also, gather the crew still aboard, I have an announcement.” 

Rolo’s eyes widen in brief recognition, and he nods, heading towards Lance’s cabin to do things the easy way and using Lance’s warning bell. Soon enough almost his entire crew is rushing on deck, or at least the ones who weren’t there to greet Lance. 

“Alright scalawags listen up!” Lance yells over the commotion, silencing the crew. He stands beside Kogane, who tenses up beneath his cloak. “This man is an ally, and I know you won’t like it, but if anyone has an issue you can take it up with me personally.”

Lance turns to Kogane, catching his eyes beneath the hood hiding his identity. “Show yourself and stay close.”

Kogane nods after a moment, looking worried as he pulls back his hood and stands close to Lance. There’s gasps of outrage and the sound of multiple swords already being drawn. Kogane’s hands twitch towards his twin swords but Lance stays his hand. 

“Enough! What did I just say?” Lance snaps. His crew freeze, ready to attack but unsure. Rolo steps forward out of the crowd, a confused Nyma held close to his back.

“Captain you can’t be serious? You realize that’s the Dragon right?” Rolo demands. “Why is he still alive? You should have spilled his blood before he ever set foot on your ship!”

“Silence! I know who he is, and Kogane is no longer an enemy, and believe me, no one is more disturbed by that than me.” Lance says. “You will not step against him, you will not attack, you will not even look at him the wrong way or so help me I will find a crew that will do as I say!”

“But, Cap-”

“Enough, drop it. We’ll be in the war room. When my guests arrive, send them to me, and Rolo, Nyma, you two will join us when the crew is calm.” Lance says. “Now depart!”

The crew is tense for a moment, and Lance tenses himself when he realizes they’re looking towards Rolo for direction. He does not like that. Rolo thins his lips, sighs, and then plasters on a pleasant smile. He steps forward and holds his hand out to shake Kogane’s hand, despite how much he looks like he doesn’t want to. 

“Welcome aboard Dragon. I hope your stay is brief and bloodless.” Rolo says. They shake hands, after Lance nods his head for Kogane to accept the olive branch Rolo extends, and when they release hands the crew sheath their weapons and move out of the way in a wide berth. Their eyes follow Lance and Kogane as he leads the Dragon by the arm to the war room. Lance keeps a tight grip on Kogane’s arm until they are locked behind the war room doors. 

Lance feels Kogane deflate beneath his grip and he lets go. 

“Well that went about as well as expected.” Hunk says, plopping down in the chair of the first mate. The room is big, big enough to house all of his Captains and more, with enough chairs for half of them. Only ten chairs sit around the large round table, but that’s fine. Right now he won’t have to worry about seating. The table is the main focus of the room, with a removable center beneath a thin glass, so that he can remove and replace maps as he pleases. Those maps are all rolled up and stacked in a corner on a table.

Lance sits down in his chair with a sigh, rubbing at his temples. 

“I don’t like how they waited for Rolo’s direction before doing as I said.” Lance says to the ceiling. 

“You think the crew would betray you? Even though they passed your trials?” Pidge asks as she sits to Lance’s left, Hunk to his right. 

“The future is ever changeable, there’s no telling if they will betray me. I doubt Rolo would vie for power, he’s been loyal to me almost since I first became Captain.” Lance muses. He doesn’t expect a response, so he doesn’t get one, and the room sits in silence until Rolo and Nyma enter, surprisingly followed by James and Ryan. He was expecting them to take a little longer. 

“Between the two of us we managed to get the job done faster than expected.” Ryan explains in answer to Lance’s unasked questions. 

“Have a seat everyone. We have a few things to discuss. You too Rolo, Nyma.” Lance says. They all take a seat at the table, Kogane subtly shifting his seat when Rolo ends up sitting closer to him than anticipated. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get started.”


	40. Lonson Harber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and McClain plan their destination.

“Wait a minute, I know that mullet.” James says after taking his seat. Keith tenses in preparation for another attempt to kill him. He didn’t realize just how much he’s pissed off the crew of the Serpent Lion and it’s subordinate ships. He also vaguely recognizes the James character as a captain of a ship he often targets. 

Good lord, what had Keith gotten himself into. 

“James, don’t.” McClain says with a growl to his voice. He stands up quickly, moves behind Keith’s chair, drags him back and nearly tips him over before standing in front of him, practically standing between Keith’s legs. “He’s an ally, he’s _my_ ally. Leave him be.” 

“Captain you can’t be serious.” James growls back, practically the same exact reaction of Rolo, who sits half turned in his chair to glare holes into his head. He desperately keeps his hands planted on the arms of his chair so he appears non threatening. He feels like he’s about to be fed to the lions. “You know what he’s done to my ship over the years! To all of our ships!”

“I know, and I’ve already decided the price he will pay in exchange for keeping my side of our deal.” McClain says. It makes Rolo and James both pause their glaring to look at McClain astonished. 

“Deal?” James demands. “What deal?”

“I won’t be discussing that until all of the Captains are gathered. Now sit down and play nice.” McClain commands. James’ face creases in disgust as he flops back into his chair. 

“I can’t believe we have to meet up with that bitch.” James mutters. 

McClain sighs, shoulders relaxing as he moves back to his seat, tapping Pidge and Keith’s shoulders to tell them to switch. Looks like McClain is keeping Keith close for his own protection. Keith doesn’t like the idea that he needs to be protected, but after the hostility he just faced, he’ll gladly accept McClain’s help. 

“We’re meeting up with _all_ the Captains, not just Luxia. And she’s not a bitch to anyone but you.” McClain responds, mentioning a woman with a name Keith doesn’t recognize. “Now, what did you tell the others in your message?” McClain asks. James finally straightens up from his muttering. 

“I told them to make way for Olkarion, and that they’ll be receiving another message for the exact port to head towards sometime in the next few days, and I said that this was ordered by you as all of our captain.” James says clearly, not sparing a second as he leans forward to settle his elbows on the table. 

“Perfect, so let’s figure out where that port will be.” McClain says with a sigh. “Hunk if you will.” 

Hunk nods, stands up and rifles through the maps stacked on the table before pulling one out. As Hunk finds the right map, McClain pulls out a sort of hidden drawer type of thing, which leaves a giant open space beneath the glass. When Hunk hands him the map he smooths it out and pins it down by magnets, sliding the drawer-tray-table thing back in and now the map is visible beneath the glass. 

Cool. 

“Alright, so we need somewhere big enough to hold eleven ships, while also being small enough that we won’t draw attention, but not small enough that we have all the attention.” McClain says. He stops and looks sidelong at Keith. “Gonna help or sit there useless as usual?” 

Keith curls his lip at him but stands anyways to help him narrow down the perfect meeting place. 

McClain hands him a marker to mark out ports as they figure things out. It’s kind of funny that his marker is red while McClain’s is blue. He cocks an eyebrow at McClain at their signature colors, and McClain snorts in amusement. 

“Alright so not here, here, here or here.” McClain says, making four small x’s on the glass over major ports. Keith nods, uncaps his own marker and goes after the smaller ones. 

“None of these places, too small. Either we couldn’t hold the meet up there comfortably or we would be too noticeable. Also, make that twelve ships. I’m sure my ship will be clear of the rats by the time they meet up with us.” Keith says. McClain nods and marks out two more next to Keith’s three. 

“So neither of these places then, we don’t want word to get out about your change of alliances so easily.” McClain says. Keith nods. 

“We need somewhere discreet, somewhere where a bunch of pirate ships won’t be obvious, or at least somewhere where the ships can be hidden from the eyes of port.” Keith says, marking out two more. 

“Can’t be here, this place sees no pirate activity.” McClain says. They move in closer as the space of the map closes in and their arms brush. They’ve completely marked out the main island, as well as the two small islands at the end of the chain. There’s around twenty or so islands for each chain, so they’re gonna have to mark out a lot of ports.

“Not here.” Keith mutters beneath his breath, taking an entire island off the map. “My ship frequents too much to go unnoticed.” 

“Same for mine here and here.” McClain mutters back, taking two islands off the list. That leaves around fourteen, most of which have a few ports already cancelled out. He and McClain start to grow silent as they take turns eliminating islands before Keith spots the perfect port. 

“Here.” McClain says at the same time as Keith says, “This one.” Their hands collide on accident making their markers smear a few random blue and red lines. Keith looks up at the same time as McClain, realizing just how close the two of them are. McClain seems to realize the same thing at the same time and they scoot apart with throats cleared. Keith sits down and looks at the wall opposite the direction of McClain. 

That was a strange encounter.

They’ve been doing that a lot lately actually. Strange encounters that leaves Keith confused and flushed. Sharing a room those two nights was the main bit of it. It was like there was an expectant air choking their room every time they were in there at the same time. Expectant of what is the question of the month. A fight maybe? 

Other times were when they happened to brush arms as they passed each other in the crowded inn. When they somehow ended up alone in the bath house that one time on the second night, even though they had bathed at entirely different times the day before. Even on small things like when they were both caught laughing at something at the same time. Or when McClain tripped on his way out the door of the room the morning they left, knocking into Keith and sending both of their bags splattering their possessions up and down the hall like someone had thrown an open paint bucket in the air.

These strange encounters always left Keith confused, overheated, and hyped on adrenaline from the charge in the air between them. 

What the hell is happening?

Another thing that’s strange, is he keeps feeling McClain’s eyes on him constantly. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s McClain, but he does, even though everytime Keith tries to catch him in the act McClain disappears. He doesn’t look away, or continue staring, no he vanishes. 

Poof. Gone. Vanishing into thin air like a damn ghost.

“Right, Lonson Harbor. Tell everyone to meet us at Lonson Harbor.” McClain says, avoiding everyone’s eyes like Keith is. He risks a glance at their onlookers and Ryan and James are watching them with knowing amusement. That disturbs him for some reason. Wasn’t James a half second away from killing him a second ago?

And what’s with that look? Does he know something about these strange happenings Keith doesn’t?

“Will do, Captain.” James says in a sing-song voice as he rises from his seat, tapping Ryan's shoulder so they can both leave to head back to their ships. 

“We sail at dawn!” McClain calls after them, laughing as James flips him the finger on his way out. Keith manages a small smile at the exchange, but then he frowns as realization crosses his mind about an undiscussed subject. 

Where is he going to sleep?


	41. Sleeping Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance shares his past and his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short hiatus! I was dealing with a new job that didn't work out, so I'm back to being a jobless broke hoe. Stupid Covid is kicking my butt. Anyways, I'm sure things will get better, so let's enjoy the new chapter!

“Uh.” Kogane says, raising his hand like they’re back in grade school. Lance cocks an eyebrow at him, having gotten over the moment of being _too close_ to Kogane thanks to James, but still feeling the warmth at his side lingering where Kogane’s heat had chased away his cold for a brief time. A wonderfully brief time. He would happily indulge in that heat, if it weren’t for who provided it. 

It’s so strange, he’s had plenty of steamy nights with a lover, and he’s never felt as warm as he does just standing next to Kogane. 

“Yes?” Lance finally asks after Kogane just shifts in his seat uncomfortably. 

“Uh, where am I expected to sleep? Do you want me to just find an inn closest to the docks?” Kogane finally asks, looking unsure. “I’m not staying in the berth with the crew, they’ll kill me in my sleep.” 

“There aren’t any inns by the docks, you have to go into town for that. You’ll be staying on my ship.” Lance says like it’s obvious. 

“Okay.” Kogane draws out the single syllable. “Then where do I sleep? And where does Adam sleep?”

Lance pauses as he ponders that question. Really, nowhere on his ship is one hundred percent safe, not with the crew teetering between betrayal or loyalty right now. He casts a glance first at Rolo, then to Hunk, and then to Pidge.

None of them offer any assistance on the matter. Though Rolo does narrow his eyes at Kogane. 

Where can he place the Dragon and guarantee his safety through the night? He could bunk him with Hunk, put Adam in the berth. Is there room in the berth for anyone else anyways? He asks Hunk that very question and Hunk stops to think about it for a moment before shaking his head silently, apologetically. 

“Hunk, do you mind sharing your quarters?” Lance asks.

“Yeah, but I can’t fit all three of us. And you know I can’t lock my door at night, in case something happens so the crew can wake me immediately in an emergency.” Hunk says. Lance nods. “So I can’t exactly promise Keith’s safety anyways, especially since I’m a heavy sleeper, hence the unlocked door.”

“Then he’ll stay with me.” Lance sighs. Kogane makes a noise of protest, drawing Lance’s eyes to him. 

“Why?” Kogane asks, or rather, he whines. Like a child. Rolo snorts, holding his hand over his mouth to silence his laughter. Lance sends him a half hearted glare for it, but his own lips twitch with amusement, lessening the blow. 

“Because. Berth is packed to bursting as is, we got lucky that Pidge is so tiny and sleeps in strange places. Hunk can’t promise your safety, and my quarters is the only one on the ship that has a lock. Not even the war room has a lock on it.” Lance explains. “Besides, the crew wouldn’t dare enter my quarters without my permission if they don’t want to lose a hand.” 

“Why is your quarters the only place that has a lock?” Pidge asks. Then she tilts her head for a second. “Also that statement is untrue, the treasure bay has like, ten locks.”

Lance shoots her an unimpressed look for the second half of what she said. “I’m not giving him a chance to go into my treasure bay. He did it enough when he ambushed my ship in the past.”

“Okay, fair point. Still doesn’t answer my question.” Pidge says. Lance goes to answer, then presses his lips together in contemplation. He had told her and Hunk of the whole royalty situation, so there’s no need to keep it from them, but again, it isn’t just the three of them in the war room. Nyma, who has been quiet this entire time which is unlike her. He glances at her for a moment, and finds her asleep. Then there’s Rolo, Kogane, and Adam. Lance hums, leaning back into his seat. He rubs his chin as he thinks. 

“Do you not know why you have locks on your quarter’s door?” Kogane asks. 

“No, there’s a very specific reason. I’m just deciding on whether I should clue Rolo in now, or wait for the rest of the captains to meet up with us.” Lance says honestly, and his eyes widen for a moment, surprised at himself for answering so bluntly. 

“Clue me in on what?” Rolo asks suspiciously. Lance looks up and eyes him for a moment. He’s been loyal to him almost as long as his other Captains. He and Beezer grew up together, but while Beezer was in the original crew, Rolo didn’t join until right after Lance gained Captainship. He passed his trials without blinking, and he refused Beezer when he was asked to sign on as Beezer’s second. 

Rolo wants to gain enough of Lance’s trust to one day be trusted with a ship of his own. Lance knows because he’s seen it. 

Lance forces his Spirit magic to surface, successfully holding back (for the first time ever) his power so he isn’t sucked into a vision, but that he gets one of his _Knowings._ And he now knows that Rolo is at a precipice, wavering between loyalty and disloyalty to Lance. Lance wonders if he should bother trying, if he should keep Rolo at his side or let him go. 

The thought lasts only a second before a Knowing slams him in the stomach, demanding he _tell,_ tell him everything _now._

“Pidge, I’ll answer your question later if you remind me. Everyone else but Rolo and Nyma, out. I need to speak to them in private.” Lance finally commands, snapping his fingers when no one moves for a second. Hunk is the first to stand.

“You heard him, everyone out.” Hunk says in that _tone,_ the tone he uses when he’s being all First Mate-y. They all file out in front of Hunk, who shuts the door behind him, probably happily standing guard so no one dares to eavesdrop. Rolo shakes Nyma awake, who snaps to attention, trying to discreetly wipe away her trail of drool. Lance allows her a moment to wake up. 

“Alright, I was going to wait until we met up with the other Captains so I didn’t have to keep explaining, but since you’re one of my most trusted crewmen, and my most loyal, I feel it’s best I tell you now. Nyma just happens to be your girl, so she gets to be in on things too.” Lance explains. He doesn’t miss the flush on Rolo’s ears when he was complimented. Nyma rolls her eyes at him. 

Explaining is easier the second time, while simultaneously harder. 

To be fair, Rolo took the whole Prince ordeal fairly well, shocked but not bothered. It’s the whole Spirit Magic thing that makes his eyes narrow suspiciously. He questions Lance almost as thoroughly as Pidge had, still looking skeptical the entire time. Lance sighs and offers to try to see a vision of Rolo’s past that Lance doesn’t know about. Past, not future. 

It goes about as well as expected, despite the vision hurting him and dredging up bad memories for Rolo. 

He had apparently grown up in an unpleasant _(understatement of the century)_ household. His vision had been about a particularly bad time of Rolo’s life, and Lance experienced the whole thing through Rolo’s eyes. Thankfully he was detached enough to still keep his own self whole, but he still felt rage at the things Lance saw. 

Rolo believes him readily when he explains the vision he had had in minimal detail as possible. 

“Captain, I’ve got to be honest.” Rolo breathes out after a very long silence of him wrapping his mind around everything. He looks up with guilty eyes. “When you were gone, I had taken command to keep everyone in line, and I thought it was fine because you would be back soon to take back the crew’s loyalty. But when you brought the Dragon aboard, I-” 

“I know.” Lance whispers. He feels his face try to fall into a sorrowful expression and wipes the emotion from his face as best as he can. 

“You know.” Rolo states, probably intending it as a question but it comes across as more of a statement. Lance nods anyways. 

“You were prepared to stage a coup and take control of my ship if I showed myself untrustworthy. I understand. It upsets me, and it might be a while until I’m around you without my swords or my guns, but I forgive you.” Lance says. He’s pretty impressed that he managed to keep his voice even, no sorrow, no anger, no distrust. Just fact. 

“I-I-I wouldn’t go that far sir.” Rolo stammers. Lance raises an eyebrow. 

“I saw the possibilities Rolo, not so much as in magic, but as in the facts of the situation. Maybe sprinkled with a little Spirit Magic to help me make the right decision.” Lance admits. Rolo laughs at that, despite the sound being choked off by his own throat. Lance stands from his place and rounds the table, holding a hand out to Rolo for a handshake. 

“I trust you Rolo, even if I still don’t know if you remain loyal as you did before.” Lance says, grasping Rolo’s forearm, making him sucking a hissing breath through his teeth as he stands to match Lance’s height. 

“I am one hundred percent yours Captain, I will not doubt you again. If you believe the Dragon an ally, then he is an ally of mine, and I will handle the crew should they have issues with him.” Rolo states with a fierce look on his face, softened slightly by his glassy eyes. 

Lance smiles. “I’m glad you’re still with me, Crow.” 

Rolo snorts at the old nickname Lance gave him so many years ago, when Rolo took to the crow’s nest like an actual, well, crow. Lance turns to Nyma and reaches out to grasp her forearm as well. She looks shocked, maybe a little pale, but her eyes are wide with a sort of wicked amusement. 

“So,” Nyma says. “Are you telling me I was a Prince’s bedmate for years?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “I gave that title up when I was thirteen, so no. Also, I have a question.” 

Nyma raises an eyebrow as Lance drops her forearm to stand casually leaning against the table. “Which is?”

“When is the damned wedding already?” Lance asks. “It’s been, like two months. I know you two kind of jumped into the whole, marriage proposal, fiance life. But I wanna know when the wedding will be and if I can come?”

Nyma and Rolo share astonished looks before she bursts into giggles. “Captain, you have to be there, you’re officiating.” 

Lance blanks for a moment. “I’m what?”

“Well, you’re a ship Captain, you can legally officiate a marriage in any country on this side of the sea.” Rolo explains, and Lance’s mouth drops his mouth open in shock. “We’ve been waiting on you to get with the program.”

“Well, what are we waiting for! Let’s start setting up a wedding for while we’re at sea!” Lance says excitedly. He’s already listing things he will need for a decent wedding worthy for one of his own crew. He’ll need flowers, a wedding gown and nice suit for the couple, and rings! He needs to make sure they have rings. He also wants to tie in traditions from all four kingdoms. 

“Lance, you don’t have to plan our wedding for right now, we can wait until we finish with your errands or whatever.” Rolo says, laughing as Lance’s face falls into a pout.

“Fine, we can wait.” Lance mumbles, turning to sulk out of the war room, but straightening back up into his usual confident persona when he leaves the war room. He lays a hand on Hunk’s shoulder with a smile and Hunk smiles back before silently heading to the kitchen for food. Lance isn’t far behind him, Kogane standing up from the pile of crates he was lounging on nearby to go with.


	42. Angry Hunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Kogane are made to duel their frustrations out by Hunk.

Kogane is getting on his damn nerves again. 

It isn’t necessarily that they’re arguing, Kogane just won’t _back off._ Everywhere Lance turns there’s at least one of three things happening, Kogane at the very center. Sometimes he’s getting into fights with his crew and ending up knocking them out when they try to step against him, despite Lance’s orders. Sometimes he’s trying to tell his crew how to do something better than they already are, which his crew don’t like, and then getting into fights and knocking them out. 

Or he’s _fucking_ undermining Lance’s every move.

Everytime Lance gives his crew direction, Kogane is right there to mutter behind him that he would do something different. And that’s another thing. Kogane literally won’t leave him the fuck alone, following him around like a lost puppy. And _another thing,_ everytime they go to sleep in Lance’s quarters Kogane literally doesn’t go to sleep, he stays up and exercises. Push ups, sit ups, stretches. Doesn’t matter what it is or how quiet it is, the noises he makes during his before bed workout cover up the sounds of the sea and keeps Lance up.

He’s going to fucking _kill_ Kogane before they ever reach Olkarion. 

Doesn’t help that Kogane does his nightly workouts shirtless. Lance has seen Kogane _shirtless,_ but he’s always so tempted to watch those muscles twitch and flex everytime he moves. It’s maddening. Kogane is maddening. The man drives him crazy either with fury or lust, never anything in between. 

His crew seems to be sensing the tension growing between him and Kogane too, because as Lance gets more frustrated, the less they pick fights. Less reasons for Lance to snap at his crew. They seem to have collectively decided to stay out of the way and let Lance take his frustrations out on Kogane. 

He recognizes this, and yet he can’t stop himself.

“Shut the fuck up Kogane!” Lance finally snaps as Kogane mutters behind him, _again,_ while Lance is trying to run his ship. “If you don’t shut your fucking mouth I will shut it for you!”

Kogane reels back in shock, before puffing up in anger. “Is that a challenge McClain, because I promise you I won’t go so easy on you as I did last time if it is.” 

Lance whirls around, letting go of the wheel and sending the ship turning sharply with the harsh waves pushing against the hull. His hand snaps out behind him to stop the wheel, even as he faces Kogane directly. “The hell are you talking about, lizard face?”

Kogane snarls at him, stepping off the railing he had been leaning against to get in Lance’s face. 

“Call me that one more time, I dare you.” Kogane threatens just loud enough to echo across the deck, a growl thick in his voice. Lance leans in so close their noses almost brush, scowling and furious. 

“Lizard. Face. What are you gonna do about it, flames for brains?” Lance says slowly, making sure he gets his point across. 

“Alright! That is enough!” Hunk yells, and Lance’s eyes flicker to the side to see his friend scowling at him with fury, but he turns his eyes back to Kogane. 

“I’m gonna roast that smirk off your face, snake.” Kogane growls, eyes flickering with the flames he’s barely holding back. Literally, there’s actual small flames emitting from the corners of his eyes and flickering towards his hairline. Lance scoffs, feeling his own magic react to the rising heat, and he feels it as flakes of ice form on his skin. 

“Not before I freeze you solid!” Lance snaps. 

“I said enough! You know what?” Hunk says. “Rolo come down here and take the wheel while I deal with these two!”

Lance doesn’t even look away from those furious dark eyes, the violet replaced with something more malicious, even as Rolo swings down from the crow’s nest to land just a few feet away. Lance happily let’s go of the wheel as Rolo grabs it, having to yank his hand hard to shatter the ice that had pinned his hand to the smooth wood. 

“You two are coming with me.” Hunk growls, grabbing them both by their arms and yanking them along. It’s enough to shock them out of their glaring contest. Lance stumbles behind Hunk, who drags them both mercilessly down the steps of the half deck down onto the main deck. When they get to the very center of the ship, Hunk throws them both to the ground in opposite directions. Lance winces when he lands on his hip, surely leaving a bruise. 

“Hunk what the hell?” Lance demands. Hunk cuts his eyes at Lance and it makes him back down in shock at the sheer hostility in them. Wow, Hunk is _pissed._

“The two of you have been at each other’s throat for a week, so it’s time you settle it once and for all. Draw your weapons.” Hunk commands. Lance drops his mouth in shock, unsure what’s happening. Glancing at Kogane, he’s just as confused. 

“Uh, Hunk, what’s going on?” Kogane asks nervously. Lance is sympathetic, a mad Hunk is terrifying. 

“You two are going to blow off steam by dueling until you can’t fucking stand anymore. You will follow my rules, or I’m throwing you overboard.” Hunk calmly states, but by the look in his eyes that calm belies a budding storm. 

“Hey,” Lance says defensively. “You can’t throw me overboard. I’m Captain of this ship.” 

“As of this moment, no you’re not, I am, until you both can take your fucking heads out of your asses. Now get up, and draw your swords.” Hunk demands. Lance is admittedly a little scared to do anything but obey Hunk. He’s never heard Hunk cuss before, it kind of scares him. Actually? It _really_ scares him. He clambers to his feet, uncertain as he draws the sword at his waist, Kogane following suit, drawing his twin blades. 

They stand loosely as they wait for Hunk to tell them the rules. 

“Good. Now this is going to be a three point system. There are two ways to win, the first, get two points, the second, knock your opponent to the ground. The points go as follows. First Blow, First Blood, First Down.” Hunk explains. “First blow goes to the person who lands the first hit that doesn’t draw blood, and first blood goes to who gets the first hit that draws blood. First down goes to the person who knocks their opponent to the floor first, getting them an automatic victory. No low blows, no vital strikes, no magic. Other than that, the two of you can have at each other. Pidge will be keeping score and refereeing.”

“Refereeing.” Lance states, expecting an explanation. 

“Yes, if Pidge finds a strike or move unfair, she can enact penalties to fit the offense. Examples given are tying a hand behind the back, or confiscating the sword so they have to retrieve it after the duel restarts.” Hunk explains. “Now take your beginning stances, Pidge will call for you to begin when she’s ready.”

Lance eases into a tight stance, keeping his arms tucked close and his legs spread just enough to ground him. His sword raises from his waist, the tip of the blade level with his eyes. The stance is almost exactly what he used in their first duel. Kogane on the other hand, stands in a natural position, his arms tight to his sides, feet spread for balance, and blades raised almost parallel with his arms. 

To the untrained fighter it looks like his chest is open for an attack, but Lance is smarter than that.

“Alright, on my mark.” Pidge calls out from behind Lance. “And begin!”

Kogane is, unsurprisingly, the first to attack. Lance digs his back foot into the ground, and waits for the perfect moment. Kogane makes a double lunge with his blades, aiming to cut both of his arms. Lance uses his sword hand to deflect one while he dodges the other, and while Kogane is briefly off balance, he uses his free hand to throw a sucker punch straight into Kogane’s cheek. 

Kogane stumbles back and then prepares to lunge forward. 

“Match Lance!” Pidge calls out, and Kogane rears back in surprise. 

“What!?” Kogane snaps. 

“Your nose is bleeding, giving Lance both first blow and first blood, winning him the match.” Pidge explains. Kogane reaches a hand up to his nose, thumbing at the small bead of blood gathering in his nostril. Wow, Lance didn’t even notice the blood. 

“Another!” Kogane growls, wiping the blood on his coat with a scowl. Lance smirks and readies the same stance he had used. Oh he’s going to enjoy this.

“On my mark!” Pidge calls. The moment she calls out the beginning of the match, it’s Lance’s turn to launch forward first. He’s fully prepared for Kogane’s block and lunge, and he barely dodges the blade soaring for his cheek. He falls into the unbalance the movement causes. Using his back foot, he manages a quick spin around, sending his arm into Kogane’s shoulder blades. 

He makes contact, but so does Kogane, and Lance hisses at the cut that’s made on his thigh.

“First Blow Lance, First Blood Keith. First one down loses.” Pidge calls out. Kogane stumbles forward from Lance’s blow, while Lance stumbles back. They both step away from each other to regain their balance, slowly circling each other. Kogane lunges first, and Lance tries to dodge the incoming punch, but at the last second, Kogane drops to the ground and uses his leg to trip Lance in his brief unbalance. 

His back hits the deck and he growls at the loss of the match even before Pidge calls it. 

They ready themselves, and Pidge wastes no time in calling the match to start. Kogane and Lance match blades, neither gaining the upper hand, even though Lance takes the defensive, falling back with every strike, using his own ship to his advantage. Unlike Kogane, Lance knows his ship and crew in his sleep, so dodging around crates, masts, crew members and rope riggings without ever looking is a cinch. It causes Kogane to stumble after him with murder in his eyes. 

Just as Kogane has him cornered, Lance smirks and cuts a rope with his sword. It sends him flying over Kogane’s swipe of his swords, and he lets go after he’s high enough to avoid Kogane’s swing. He lands on the deck with a roll, immediately launching to his feet and pressing the advantage while Kogane is disoriented. Lance pins him against the rigging with a sword to the throat, pressing the tip of his blade underneath Kogane’s chin, forcing him to lift his head if he wanted to avoid getting cut. 

Lance expects to find hostility in his eyes, but it’s not what he finds. 

Lance flushes as he sees the heated look of Kogane’s half lidded violet eyes, staring him down much like he had in the vision. Pidge calls out his victory and he backs off, feeling overheated all of a sudden. He slips off his coat, tossing it to the nearest crew member, watching in fascination as Kogane does the same, merely dropping his carelessly on the ground instead. They back up back towards their starting places, Kogane’s eyes on him with a heat in them not related to his magic. 

Lance swallows down his own _interest_ rising at that look. 

Neither of them move when Pidge calls out the start of the next match, eyeing each other down. Kogane’s lips finally curl into a wicked smile. His eyes brighten up, practically turning red in his excitement. Lance can’t help his own excitement rising.

“This reminds me of our duel in the forest.” Kogane finally says, the first words he’s said in many minutes. 

Lance can’t help but smile at the memory. “The one where I was clearly winning?”

Kogane scoffs. “In your dreams.”

“Every night.” Lance mutters under his breath, but he sees Kogane’s eyes widen, and then darken considerably. Crap, he totally heard that. 

Kogane darts forward all of a sudden, and Lance, caught off guard for a moment, barely manages to avoid his attack. After he regains his footing, Lance presses forward, and a dememnted sounding cackle slips from his lips as the two of them trade blows. Kogane lands first blow, Lance gets first blood. 

This one lasts a lot longer than the others. 

The duel becomes less like a battle of wills, and more like a playful fight. They take turns chasing each other across the top deck of his ship, barely dodging each other's swipes, locking swords when a strike gets too close. Lance doesn’t try to land any blows, not wanting to cut this short, and Kogane seems to match his strategy. 

A laugh bubbles out of Kogane as he advances, prompting Lance to let out one of his own, using a stack of crates to hop out of the way of a low swipe. He lands next to the same rigging he had pinned Kogane against, and he quickly uses the same trick as last time. This time though, he doesn’t let go until he’s planting his feet on the main gaff. 

When Lance glances down, he gets to watch as Kogane ascends right after him with a gigantic grin on his face. They duel across the main mast, pressing forward and retreating in turns. Lance swings around the center mast to get on the opposite side of the gaff, Kogane swinging after him. 

Lance's smile falls as Kogane’s foot slips and he plunges downwards with wide eyes. 

Lance sheaths his sword and dives after him, twisting his body to send his magic into the ocean around his ship, sending a huge tidal wave straight towards himself, just as he grabs Kogane’s flailing hands. The water engulfs them completely as Lance pulls Kogane in close to make sure he doesn’t get swept away. 

Lance uses his free hand to send the wave downwards, gently cresting to dispense them safely onto the deck. As soon as they land, they end up tumbling over each other, and Lance ends up beneath Kogane as he’s spread across Lance’s chest. They both gasp for air as the rest of the water Lance had used his magic on comes raining down on them. 

It’s silent across the deck as everyone stares in shock. 

Lance has his eyes closed and his head tilted to the side as he catches his breath, and then Kogane starts laughing hysterically. It starts out just a shaking in his shoulders before becoming giggles and then full blown laughs. Lance ends up laughing too, which is hard to do with a full grown man on his chest. 

“I win.” Kogane breathes out between laughs. “You’re the first one to hit the ground.” 

Lance stops laughing to look down at Kogane in shock, and then shoves him off harshly making Kogane grunt in pain. Lance snickers as he stands, draws his sword and presses it against Kogane’s chest, his boot planted just beside his blade. He leans down with a smirk. 

“Incorrect.” Lance states. Kogane pouts at him, literally pouts at him as he knocks the sword off. 

“No fair I almost died.” 

“And I saved you, so that grants me automatic victory.”

Kogane rolls his eyes, knocking Lance’s boot off his chest and standing slowly, one hand pressing against his side, his right side. That must have been where Kogane had landed, since Lance’s left side kind of throbs too. Kogane lifts his shirt and reveals a nasty bruise already purpling up and down his side. Lance winces and raises his own shirt to see if he’s bruising too, and oh what a surprise, his side is purpling too.

“Hey Pidge?” Lance calls. Pidge is lodged in between two crates like a gremlin and she shakes her head. 

“Nope, you two were being idiots, you get to live with the bruises and cuts.” Lance makes a wounded sound.

“Rude. Come on Kogane, I’ve got some bandages in my quarters.” Lance says, and he nods and follows, limping. Is his ankle hurt too? Lance will have to check and make sure. 

They both hobble into his quarters and Lance holds the door for Kogane, closing it behind himself. When he turns around, he finds himself pinned against the door and lips crashing into his own. Lance gasps from the shock, unexpecting of this turn of events, but he welcomes it all the same. Lance draws Kogane in closer, weaving a hand into that unruly hair, accidentally knocking the leather strap out of his hair and letting those black strands frame both of their faces as they kiss.

Kogane drags Lance’s bottom lip into his mouth and sucks on it, making Lance groan. In retaliation he catches Kogane’s in between his teeth, nibbling lightly and enjoying the little intake of breath Kogane makes. Their lips lock together again, Kogane’s hand against Lance’s neck and pulling his head in closer and tighter, sealing their lips together mercilessly. 

When Kogane pulls back for air Lance drags him back in evilly. Lance is a water mage, is it really surprising he can hold his breath for a lot longer than other people?


	43. First Kiss Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's view on the kiss and more.

Keith is suffocating, maybe quite literally. 

He didn’t mean to kiss McClain, but now here he is, and he’s dying. Everytime he draws back for air, trying to quell the burning in his chest with desperate gasps, McClain drags him back in not a moment later, barely letting him breath. He ends up desperately sucking in air through his nose, filling his senses with McClain’s scent. 

He smells like sea salt and something woodsy, making Keith dizzier than the lack of breath does. 

Keith presses in close, limping on his twisted ankle, careful with his and McClain’s bruised sides. McClain’s head tilts forward, revealing the arousing fact that McClain is actually an inch or so taller. McClain flips them, pressing Keith against the door this time, and then presses in again for another breathtaking kiss. McClain uses his small height advantage to cover Keith, making him arch into Mcclain’s touch when those hands graze lightly down his sides. 

His skin twitches as he’s reminded that neither of them ever grabbed their coats. 

McClain runs a hand beneath Keith’s loose peasant shirt, avoiding the tender bruise on his side, running up his stomach instead. Keith whimpers at the teasing feather light touches, and McClain smirks against his mouth. He draws away, giving Keith a much needed chance to breathe, head spinning and muscles twitching. 

“You little devil.” McClain whispers in his ear as his lips trace against his skin at his neck, making him twitch. “Have you been riling me up just to get me here, pressing you against my bedroom door and kissing the life out of you?”

Keith squeaks and shakes his head. 

That was _exactly_ what he was trying to do, but McClain doesn’t need to know that. 

“That’s a bold lie you’re spinning Kogane. Too bad I don’t believe you.” McClain whispers in his ear, reminding him of those two nights they shared a room in the inn. Keith’s breath hitches when McClain’s teeth latches onto his earlobe, sucking it into his mouth before moving down to his throat. 

Keith clenches his hands, which are surprisingly digging into McClain’s back, and the drag of Keith’s nails forces out a moan from McClain’s throat, low and deep and broken. Oh he wants that sound again. 

McClain presses close again, lodging one thigh in between Keith’s legs and using his hips to pin Keith against the door so tightly he almost thinks he’ll meld with the wood.

Keith tilts his head back to let McClain have better access to his throat, breath hitching as those teeth draw his skin between them, nipping just hard enough to make Keith hiss in pleasure. He rakes his hands down McClain’s back again, earning him another of those broken moans and he reaches up to drag McClain’s mouth back to his own. 

Keith doesn’t hesitate to use his tongue to pry McClain’s lips apart, groaning happily when he meets no resistance. Their tongues wrap around each other, pushing and pulling, taking what little breath Keith had gained back out of his throat in gasps. McClain grabs at Keith’s hips to draw them forward, causing sweet, delicious friction as he rolls his hips forward. 

McClain’s hands guide Keith’s hips over his thigh, making Keith hiss and whine as he grabs at McClain desperately, anywhere he can get his hands on. Dragging his nails up and down MClain’s back, gripping futilely at his short locks, just long enough to run his fingers through but not enough to take hold. Keith forces his head away to breath desperately for air, barely managing a short gasp before McClain is stealing his breath with his soft lips all over again. 

It’s a tortuous cycle. McClain steals his breath with hungry lips, Keith rears his head back for breath, McClain barely let’s him catch a breath before he’s drawing Keith back in all over again. The continuous back and forth of not breathing, gasping for air, and not breathing again has Keith lightheaded. So much so Keith forgets he can breath through his nose, just taking what little air McClain allows him to have, smothering him while riling his body up simultaneously. 

Keith forces his head sideways to gasp for breath again, growling brokenly when McClain forces a particularly hard roll of Keith’s hips. A breathy chuckle hits his ear, so close hot breath washes over his skin and makes him shiver. 

“How-” Keith gasps. “How are you not suffocating right now?”

McClain licks a strip of skin on Keith’s neck and makes his knees weak for a moment. “Because I’m a water mage, we’re good at holding our breath.” McClain says, before biting hard on Keith’s neck and making his back arch as a harsh shot pleasure runs down his spine. 

Within a moment there’s a pair of lips on his again, and Keith has enough of a chance suck in a deep breath of air before McClain suffocates him. Oh but what a way to go, suffocated to death by McClain’s searing hot kiss. Or actually, his lips are pretty cold, but Keith has enough heat for the both of them. 

The hand on Keith's right hip moves to his knee, the leg not injured, lifting the leg to curl around McClain’s hip. 

Keith accidentally puts pressure on his twisted ankle, making him hiss in pain and making McClain draw away from him. They both suck in much needed breaths, staring at each other, the room dimly lit by the sunlight peeking through the curtains. 

McClain visibly swallows. “We should-”

“Yeah.” Keith says in a broken tone, rasping like he had smoked a pipe his entire life. They slowly separate and McClain helps Keith limp towards his bed, sitting him down so he can treat Keith’s injuries from their dueling. Wow, it feels like they had been dueling each other weeks ago, instead of mere minutes. 

“I’m gonna-” McClain clears his throat after it comes out much deeper than either of them expected. “I’m gonna remove your boot to look at your ankle, so you might want to bite down on something.”

_Can I bite down on you?_

“What?” McClain says, head snapping up in shock, cheeks flushing like he hadn’t been making out with Keith against his door a few seconds ago. Why is he- _Oh._ Keith said that out loud. 

“Nevermind.” Keith forces out. He reaches for something to bite down on, finding nothing within reach that would work. 

“Here.” McClain says, handing him a small block of his ice. He gladly takes it, clenching it between his teeth. He isn’t sure if he really needs it. It’s not like his ankle is that inju-

_Oh holy fucking gods, son a bitch, that hurts like a mother fucker._

Keith bites down hard on the ice as McClain practically yanks his boot off, screaming between clenched teeth as sharp shocks of pain race up his leg. His leg spasms in McClain’s tight grip, and Keith whines as his jerking makes the bruise on his side pull, causing him even more pain. 

The crumbles in his mouth from the force of his bite, sitting on his tongue with a weird taste.

“Wow, okay.” McClain says, turning his now bared ankle over gently to look over the injury. “That’s pretty swollen, I’m gonna wrap it in my ice to make the swelling go down before wrapping a bandage around it.” 

Keith grunts an affirmative, the now shattered ice laying in pieces in his lap and mouth while he grits his teeth. The ice magic on his ankle is freezing cold, but it soothes some of the pain, numbs it. McClain hardens the ice to the shape of his foot and stands up, walking across the room to rifle through his desk. Probably for bandages. 

Keith tilts himself backwards and collapses on McClain’s bed, sinking into the softness with a sigh.

He can hardly believe the extremes this day has taken. First they’re at each other’s throats, then they’re practically playing while they duel, then they started making out and now McClain is tending to his twisted ankle. Keith grunts again as he shifts to get comfortable, jostling his frozen foot and making a sharp pain race up his leg again. The cold of the ice makes him shiver, but he forces himself not to use his magic to warm himself up, not until McClain is done icing his ankle. 

He ends up passing out before he gets the chance to talk to McClain about that kiss and what it means.


	44. Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Kogane get hot and heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this chapter.

They make it to Olkarion in the next two days, and Lance has avoided Kogane like the plague. 

Okay that’s wrong, he avoided talking about that kiss, shutting Kogane down everytime he tried to bring it up. He wants to beat himself up, why the hell did he do that? Why did he kiss Kogane back? And what’s more, why would Kogane kiss _him?_ It makes no sense to Lance, how would Kogane have even known he would have taken the kiss well? What if Lance tried to kill him for kissing him instead of kissing back? 

Is Lance _that_ obvious?

Lance huffs and pushes the thought away as he steers his ship gently into port, seeing James and Ryan’s ships doing much the same down the line. This port may not be very big, but it has enough activity that three ships arriving at once isn’t something to gossip about. Lance eases the steering wheel to the left as he avoids a tiny sailboat docked on the next dock over. 

“Drop anchor!” Lance calls when he finally manages to get close enough to the dock for the gangplank to reach the dock. There’s a loud splash as the anchor is dropped and the crew flurry into activity to lower the sails and tie the ship to the dock. Lance steps down the steps of the half deck to assist where he can. His crew isn’t as big as his ship usually requires, but for the most part they can manage without more people. 

It takes a while, getting all the sails tied down to avoid them catching the wind, but soon his crew are waiting for orders before him. 

Cook steps forward and hands him the inventory list, and Lance quickly looks through the pages to see what he needs to send his crew out for. He quickly rattles off his orders, and his crew rush to fulfill their duties so they can roam the town. Lance stays aboard, practically the last one aboard the ship at this point. 

That is to say, except for Kogane, since he sent Hunk and Pidge on errands as well. 

“McClain.” Kogane says, and Lance’s shoulders tense. He immediately tries to retreat to his quarters, but Kogane beats him to the door before he can. He hasn’t even looked Kogane in the face since their kiss two days ago, but looking at him now, Lance feels his heart race. He remembers how sweet those lips were, how warm Kogane made him. It’s been on his mind for days now, filling his every thought, his dreams, everything. 

His fingers twitch.

“We need to-” Kogane starts, but Lance can’t help it. He surges forward, pressing into Kogane and crushing their lips together, effectively cutting Kogane off. 

“Fuck that.” Lance whispers when he pulls back a few seconds later. “I’m interested in something else.”

Kogane stares at him with wide eyes, mouth parted, drawing Lance’s eyes down. He growls low in his throat as he watches Kogane’s tongue dart out to lick his lips. “Okay.”

Lance doesn’t hesitate this time, surging forward, reconnecting their lips with a groan, reaching both hands behind Kogane. One to grab his waist, the other to open the door. They stumble into the room, never stopping as they attack each other, ripping at clothes and drawing each other forward every time they part for a brief gasp of air. 

Kogane’s knees end up knocking into the bed, and Lance presses him down into the blankets with his weight. 

“McClain-” Kogane gasps, and Lance growls into Kogane’s throat. 

“Lance. In this room you call me Lance.” Lance says, nipping at his throat, hard enough to bruise. Good, let him deal with hiding Lance’s marks. The thought of Kogane walking around with a set of hickeys covering his skin, both visible and covered, thrills him more than he can comprehend. 

“Keith, call me-” He says, arching as Lance sucks on the spot he just bit. “Call me Keith in this room.” 

“Gladly kitten.” Lance says, and Keith groans as Lance practically rips the stupid sleeveless coat apart. 

“That’s not my name, asshole.” Keith laughs breathlessly, one hand raking his nails down Lance’s back, and a deep sting of pleasure makes him groan weakly against Keith’s neck. 

“Say it kitten.” Lance commands. His left hand runs underneath his shirt while his right trails down his stomach to tug at his pants. “Say my name.”

“Lan-fuck!” Keith gasps, just as Lance forgoes teasing and plunges his hand beneath the tight cloth of his pants. Keith is already hard, which is good, because so is Lance. “Lance.” 

“That’s it.” Lance laughs breathlessly, raising his head to catch Keith’s lips with his own, stroking Keith slowly, drawing out those delicious noises Keith makes. The shuddering exhales, the desperate gasping breaths, the low and shaky groans against Lance’s lips. Lance swallows it all, attacking Keith’s soft lips mercilessly while teasing him with his hand. Lance draws back, ducking his head to kiss and nip at Keith’s collar bones. “That’s right, call my name. Let me hear you.” 

“Lance, fuck.” Keith gasps and groans out. His hands reach up to tangle into Lance’s hair. Lance immediately removes them, pinning them to the bed with a silent warning to keep them there. Keith whimpers but obeys, clenching his fists into the sheets to keep from grabbing at Lance. “Please, faster, more.” 

Lance ignores Keith’s begging, taking his sweet time riling Keith up until he goes mad. That’s what Lance wants to see. He wants to see Keith unravel at his fingertips. He wants to drive him wild with pleasure before ever moving forward. He wants to see how long he can prolong Keith’s release. 

Lance removes his hand from Keith’s pants, met with whining as he tugs Keith’s shirt and coat off and over his head. Lance licks his lips hungrily as he finally gets the chance to take advantage of Keith’s very toned body. “You are magnificent.” Lance whispers, running a hand from Keith’s collar bone, down the center of his chest, dancing his fingers lightly over the toned stomach and tugging at Keith’s waistband. 

With a broken sound, Keith struggles his pants and underwear off, leaving him bare to Lance’s viewing pleasure. 

“You just gonna stand there and stare, or are you gonna fuck me?” Keith asks breathlessly. He truly is a vision in this moment. He’s laying down on Lance’s bed, black hair spread over the pillow. For once, Keith’s bangs are out of the way, showing Lance his full face. Swollen red lips, slick with their shared saliva. Hazy violet eyes. 

Keith is gorgeous to behold, and Lance wants to _taste._

Without a moment more, Lance covers Keith with his body, diving straight for the exposed neck, already darkening in a few places with hickeys. Keith’s skin tastes salty as Lance drags his tongue downward, peppering a few nips with his teeth that makes Keith gasp and arch into his mouth. Lance keeps his left arm beside Keith’s head to hold himself up, happily letting his right hand feel Keith’s body. Lance discovers he _really_ likes to grab at Keith’s thigh, needing the hard muscles between his fingers. 

“Dammit McClain fucking touch me already!” Keith hisses and Lance raises his head, removing his hand from Keith’s thigh, smirking down at Keith who whimpers at the complete loss of contact.

“Sorry, I don’t know any McClains. Maybe I should let you go track them down since it’s him you want and not me.” Lance says, playing dumb. Keith’s eyes narrow at Lance, baring teeth Lance would very much like to have biting him soon, a rumbling noise erupting from Keith’s chest. Not quite like a growl, this one is deeper, more animalistic. Hot as fuck. 

“Lance. Please touch me already Lance.” Keith says, and Lance is impressed he keeps his voice level. So impressed he decides to grant Keith’s request.

“As you wish.” Lance says, wrapping his hand firmly around Keith’s hardness, making those pretty violet eyes roll back in his head. He keeps his touch firm, but his movements slow, dipping his head to return to Keith’s chest, sucking one nipple into his mouth and lavishing it with his tongue. Keith’s low groan raises in pitch when Lance does this, and Lance smiles wickedly as he rolls the hard nub between his teeth. 

Suddenly Keith jerks with a hiss when Lance picks up the pace of his hand, this time loosening his grip since his past is faster. 

“Fuck,” Keith whines. “Please Lance!”

“You’re really cute when you beg.” Lance whispers as he moves his head to give attention to the other nipple. He runs the flat of his tongue slowly over it to harden it, blowing cool air over the now saliva soaked nipple. Keith jerks in the other direction this time with a whimper. “And your body is so responsive, so sensitive.”

“Shut up!” Keith snaps, but the words lose their bite with how his voice breaks and rises in pitch. Lance chuckles breathlessly as he takes hold of Keith’s nipple with his teeth. Shifting to ease some of his own strain in his pants. 

“Maybe if you ask nicely I’ll give you even more attention. I still have another hand after all, where do you want it?” Lance says, and Keith whines, arching his back and throwing his head sideways into the pillow, half his face pressed into the pillow as he pants. Lance hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet, and Keith is falling apart beneath him.

“Forget your hand, I want you inside me, like, yesterday.” Keith says.

“What’s the magic word?” Lance whispers, sucking a hickey into the exposed part of Keith’s neck, right next to one he put earlier in their play. Keith groans weakly, fists clenched desperately into the sheets.

“Please!” Keith calls out breathlessly, clenched fists jerking upwards with the sheets and blanket still locked in their grip. 

Lance hums mockingly, jerking his hand upwards and tightening his grip all of a sudden, making Keith cry out on the pillow. “Not good enough, and you know, my attention span is short, so I could get bored and walk away any minute now if you don’t convince me.” Keith whines. “C’mon kitten. Use your words, convince me to stay. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Please Lance, I’m begging you. I want you to fuck me! I want you to break me in half, I want to be unable to walk for a week. I want you to wreck me so bad I cry.” Keith gasps out, and Lance is delighted to hear such words come out of the Dragon’s swollen lips. Keith keeps going, babbling, words running together the faster Lance moves his hand. Slurring more the tighter Lance’s grip becomes. “Please Lance, please, please, please. Make me cum so hard I black out, fuck me so good I become addicted, so I only get off when I think of you. No! So I can only get off with you! Please, I want it so bad.”

“As you wish.” Lance hisses happily when his babbling dissolves into whimpers, hips jerking with Lance’s every movement. 

Lance sits up, quickly tossing his coat to the side, watching happily as Keith reaches to pull Lance’s shirt over his head. And of course, because all bad things happen to Lance, he hears James call out his name. 

“Fuck.” Lance hisses, and Keith sits up with panic in his eyes. He quickly throws his shirt and coat back on, stopping by his mirror to make sure all evidence of a heavy make out/almost sex session is null and void. He can’t do anything about his swollen lips, but James and Ryan used to scold him for biting his lips until they’re bloody, so he can blame it on that. 

He stops and glances at Keith- Kogane- whatever- who still lays splayed out on Lance’s bed, black hair wild and loose, lips as swollen as Lance’s, a bunch of hickeys beginning to turn purple on his neck. Lance licks his lips as he eyes Keith’s body one last time. 

“Stay here.” Lance says, and Keith (Kogane? Is he supposed to call him Kogane outside of sexy times?) nods as his skin flushes. Lance opens his door and walks out, leaving behind a very turned on and naked Keith, while growling at James’ _impeccable_ timing. 

_Fucking asshole._


	45. Meet the Captains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Captains all finally arrive for Lance to start the war meeting.

It’s only another week later when everyone arrives, most of them on the same day, and Lance stands in the war room waiting for everyone. 

Somehow, Hunk has managed to not be around when a captain arrives, so that means Lance will have to make sure all of them introduce themselves properly when the war meeting begins at noon. Hunk and Pidge have been roaming the nearby towns, Hunk taking Pidge shopping or something. She said she wanted to find some texts on Spirit Magic while they waited, but so far no luck. 

Their search has extended into the nearby towns, and Lance gave them both permission, so long as they return before the week is out. 

As it stands, seven of his ten Captains have already arrived and they’re just waiting on the last three people to board. Luxia, likely to be the last person because she’s dramatic that way. Florona and Plaxum are yet to board as well, but they only arrived in port this morning so they might just be settling affairs. He’s also waiting on Hunk and Pidge to return, hopefully with something on spirit magic. This is Olkarion, so perhaps they found something of note. 

As it stands the room is already packed. 

Lance sits dead center in the chair facing the door, the chair to his right empty for Hunk. Since he’s Lance’s First Mate, that makes him of higher rank than anyone else in the room other than Lance. That said, Hunk would still have to defer to another Captain, probably James or Luxia since they’re next ranked, if Lance tells him to. 

Beside the empty chair to his right is James, and then Ryan, and then Nadia Rizavi. She’s a fiery and willful Air Mage, with dark hair and dark skin, though lighter than Ryan’s, and she wears glasses. She’s a bit of a wild one, and her and Lance used to get in all sorts of trouble playing pranks on the crew. She’s also his third captain, the third person he gave a ship, James and Ryan being first and second respectfully. 

“Sorry we’re late Captain!” Florona says as she sweeps into the room, followed by Plaxum and then Luxia. Florona is a pink haired pixie of a woman, with as much chaotic energy as Nadia has, except in the opposite direction. While Nadia is mischievous, Florona is flirty. Plaxum on the other hand is smart and decisive, making her a talented tactician, much like Ryan. Plaxum, surprisingly, has dyed her hair blue, and it actually brings out her pale blue eyes. Luxia?

Luxia is a paradox. 

She’s got a powerful commanding presence, but she’s also really unnerving. Just with the way she acts, it gives you the impression of a predator stalking its prey, and the feeling literally never goes away. All of it masked by her gentle voice and warm smile. Her hair is also freshly dyed, this time a pale bluish green color. Florona must have made them do it, but at least they all look good. The three of them are actually half sisters, same mother, different fathers. They joined Lance’s Captain’s crew around the same time Lance did. 

“It’s alright, we’re still waiting on my First Mate and my protege.” Lance says, and he instantly knows he said the wrong thing when at least four pairs of wide eyes land on him. He sighs. This is about the protege thing isn’t it?

“Protege?” Florona asks, blue eyes wide. 

“Drop it, it’s not what you’re thinking.” Lance sighs, rubbing a hand on his forehead to stave off his already growing headache. “Please sit down while we wait, they should be here shortly.” _Not soon enough._

James scowls when Luxia’s eyes land on him. “Nice of you to join us _Luxia.”_

“My pleasure _James.”_ Luxia snaps at him, her smile straining as she glares him down. Lance rolls his eyes. He wishes those two would just get along, he gave them an equal standing for a reason. 

“That’s enough, I’m not in the mood for you two right now.” Lance commands, and they both back off, but if Hunk and Pidge don’t get here soon so he can start the meeting and distract them from each other, there’s surely going to be a little civil war in this room. 

They sit in silence, the tension in the air rising by the second between the two idiots on the opposite sides of the table. 

Then, mere minutes later, there’s a knock on the door and Lance wants to sigh in relief as he goes to the door to let Hunk in. Even though Hunk could have done what the others did and just walked in, Hunk is more polite and humble than any of the knuckleheads he calls captains.

“Sorry it took us so long.” Hunk says the moment the door is open. Lance practically drags him in the room, Pidge following at his heels with three thick books in her arms. Oh good, he’ll have to ask to read them after the meeting. The more he knows about Spirit Magic the better. She hands the books off to Adam, who stands silently against the back wall with Rolo and Nyma. 

“Everyone, this is Hunk, my First Mate. Introduce yourselves in order of rank.” Lance says and then remembers to tack on at the end. “And skip the formalities please.”

Lance wants to laugh as all of his captains pout, and he does mean all of them. They worked hard on coming up with the perfect official introduction to prove their loyalty to Lance way back when, but he just doesn’t really care that much for formalities. They stand up and walk up to grasp Hunk’s forearm as they briefly run through an introduction. 

“We’ve met already, but he said in order. So I’m James.” James starts and Hunk nods. Lance sees Pidge slip past them and sit down beside Kogane, both of them watching curiously. 

“Luxia, First Lieutenant, Captain of the Sapphire Serenity and head of the Serenity fleet.” Luxia says next.

“Ryan.” Ryan says, not bothering with much else other than the grasping of Hunk’s arm. 

“Peridot Serenity, Captain Plaxum. A Second Lieutenant like Ryan, Second in Command of the Serenity Fleet.” Short and sweet as always Plaxum.

“Nadia, nice to meet ya! I’m Captain of the Aquamarine Majesty, but I nicknamed her Aqua. I’m a Third Lieutenant.” Nadia says, raising and lifting their grasped forearms like they’re actually shaking hands enthusiastically. She skips back to her seat. 

“Florona, Third Lieutenant, Captain of the Emerald Serenity.” Florona says, then leans in close, a wide grin on her face, to Hunk who backs away with a squeak. “You’re cute, wanna go out?”

Lance rolls his eyes and flicks her in the forehead. She pouts as she returns to her seat. It really is strange the parallels of the two fleets. Each corresponding Captain seems to match in personalities. He did _not_ do that on purpose.

“Ruby Majesty, Captain Ina. Fourth Lieutenant.” Ina is a really calculating type of person, which is obvious in the way she takes a moment to scan Hunk. Her ‘scanning’ ability is more like she can predict highly accurately the strengths and weaknesses of a person with just a look. 

“Garnet Serenity’s Captain, also a fourth, Swirn at your service sir.” Swirn is also pretty calculating, but more in he’s curious about people’s secrets rather than strengths or weaknesses. It’s been especially hard for Lance to keep his secrets around Swirn. He’s also, maybe just a little, crazy, but he’s a good guy. Lance can’t figure out why, but Swirn is wearing a jellyfish on his head? 

Lance can’t tell if it’s real or not though, but still. Jellyfish. Why?

“I’m the Captain of the Opal Majesty, the name is Beezer. I’m the Fifth lieutenant of the Majesty fleet.” And like Lance said, matching personalities, because he and Blumfump are birds of a feather. Both are a little cocky, both are a little crazy. Beezer and Blumfump are also wearing a sea creature on his head, but Beezer has an octopus, and Blumfump another jellyfish. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” 

“Uh, no, not really.” Hunk stutters out. Beezer deflates as he sulks back to his place standing between Ryan and Nadia’s seats.

“I Captain the Amethyst Serenity, also fifth. My name is Blumfump, but you can call me Lume, that’s what Rolo always called me.” Blumfump says, slicking a hand over his bald head, running his hand _under_ the jellyfish to do so. “Surely you’ve heard of _me_ though right?” Case and point regarding matching personalities, but now Lance is thoroughly creeped out.

“Uh, sorry.” Hunk says. Blumfump slumps back to his place as well, standing between Luxia and Plaxum. 

“Okay, stop. Hold up.” Lance says, finally breaking his self control because he just has to know. “Beezer. Blumfump. Swirn. What’s with the sea creatures on your heads? Why?”

Luxia sighs irritably, leaning on her hand, eyebrow twitching in irritation. The rest of his captains all nod their heads in agreement. “They’ve been wearing them for a month now, all they said was that it was an experiment and won’t explain further.” Lance is at a loss, to say the least. Why has _no one_ told him about this?

Lance looks back at Blumfump, Swirn and Beezer, looking for answers, but they all just smile at him and adjust their sea creatures, leaning over the table to hive five each other. 

Lance groans in frustration, rubbing his temples as his headache grows, waving off his own confusion. The three of them settle back into their spots. Ina stands between James and Ryan’s seats, and Beezer between Ryan and Nadia. Swirn stands between Luxia and Plaxum, Blumfump between Plaxum and Florona. He set it up this way so neither side is too close to the other, and he’s glad Florona is the one taking the last seat because she holds no beef with Nadia. In fact the two of them get along pretty well. 

So long as they all stay in Lance’s line of sight, he won’t have to worry about this meeting. 

“Alright Hunk, introduce yourself the proper way so we can begin.” Lance says, laying a hand on Hunk’s shoulder and making him jump. It’s clear he’s nervous for some reason. Maybe it’s from meeting so many people at once who already know of him?

Hunk salutes, much more solidly than the first time, and Lance suppresses an impressed smile. Hunk’s been practising? It’s the only explanation why he gets the salute down so perfectly. 

“First Mate Hunk Garrett, First Mate of Captain Lance McClain, Captain of the Serpent Lion, Head of the Majesty and Serenity Fleets. It is an honor to meet you all.” Hunk says, voice not even wavering. Lance does smile this time. Hunk’s confidence is back up all of a sudden, which was another reason why his captains made the introduction and salute up. They claimed it gave them a boost of confidence stating their rank and standing in Lance’s eyes. 

He doesn’t know what he did to get such loyal captains, but he’s grateful. 

“Alright.” Lance says as he walks back to his seat, Hunk back to his. “First off, for those who might not know yet, this is Captain Keith Kogane, the Dragon, and a new ally. And this is Pidge, my protege. Along the back wall is Adam, Rolo who I’m sure you’ve heard of already, and Nyma. Treat them all with respect.” 

He waits, but there’s no declaration of war against Kogane, and no questions about Pidge. 

Looks like James gave them the message to not bring anything up, good.

“So before we begin, there are a few things I need to explain to all of you, things that have developed recently. Included in this is why I haven’t killed Kogane just yet.” Lance starts, and then goes on to explain again about his magic and his lineage and what he knows of his Spirit Magic. 

“Wow.” Florona says, first to break the silence after Lance is done. “That makes you even hotter than before. Wanna go out?” 

Lance laughs at Florona’s suggestive look. “No thanks love.” Florona pouts. 

“Aw man. I was hoping to experience the legendary Lance McClain in bed.” Florona teases. Lance rolls his eyes. 

“It’s pretty good if I do say so myself.” Nyma pipes in and Lance twists in his chair. He glares at her as she smiles innocently. 

“Oh you have _got_ to tell me everything later.” Florona says with a wild look in her eyes. Nyma laughs. 

“You got it!” Nyma says.

“Moving on.” Lance says, rolling his eyes and continuing to explain uninterrupted. “Now to explain about why Kogane is here with us, and why I’ve called you all here. He has betrayed his country to align himself with Altea, and with me, and I must complete my side of the deal we made.”

“What’s his part of the deal?” Ina asks. “I don’t see the dark shadow of death hanging over him, so he didn’t promise you his life.”

Lance opens his mouth to respond but he flounders. “I’m not positive I understand what you just said, but no, I will not be taking his life.” 

“Can I?” James says menacingly, a small flame flickering over the knuckles of his closed fist. Lance exudes his magic, leeching the room of any warmth there was before, putting out James’ flame easily. James sits back in his seat with a huff, his breath visible in the suddenly cold room. “Jeez, could have just said no.”

“If any one of you threatens his life again, it will be yours on the line. Am I understood?” Lance threatens. His captains all share looks before nodding silently in agreement. 

“That still doesn’t answer my question.” Ina says when Lance lets up on his magic. 

“I owe him a life debt, and seeing as he can see the future, I doubt he doesn’t know exactly what he wants me to do.” Kogane says, speaking up for the first time, crossing his arms as he stares Lance down. Lance just smiles innocently.

“Well, then we know you won’t back out of the deal after we save your brother.” Luxia says, waving her hand carelessly in the air as she leans on the other. She looks incredibly bored, if you don’t look at the calculating look in her eyes. “Breaking a pirate’s life debt leaves him a target for every pirate and bounty hunter known to man.”

“Yes I know. I’ve put up a few of those bounties myself.” Kogane says. “And my word is my oath, I don’t break promises. Deals fall into that category. I don’t believe in double crossing on a mutual deal. My deal with the Emperor on the other hand, is very one sided. So I have no qualms taking what’s mine and leaving him to rot.” Kogane’s eyes darken as he says this, and Lance watches in fascination as it does. The change is so subtle you don’t see the color changing from violet to nearly black until after it’s already happened. 

Kogane catches him staring and Lance quickly looks away.

He so does _not_ want to invite their budding sexual tension into this meeting. It’s bad enough they haven’t had a chance to talk about it, or more importantly, pick up where they left off. Oh and that’s something Lance _desperately_ wants to do. Lance has gone far too long without someone to warm his bed and Kogane is just _right there,_ looking like the personification of sex. 

“Lance?” Hunk asks, and he blinks as he refocuses on the room of fifteen pairs of eyes staring at him. 

“What?” Lance asks, and then he realizes he zoned out. “Oh sorry. Right, where were we?”

“Your deal with the Dragon!” Nadia says loudly. 

“Right, so now that we all know everything that needs to be said, let's get down to business. We need to come up with a war plan for rescuing Shiro and the other prisoners.” Lance says, folding his hands to prop his chin up. “Once we do this, Zarkon will view it as an act of war, so we will have to sail hard and fast to Altea to prepare them for battle.”

“So I take it we’re picking a side after all?” Luxia asks, eyebrow raising to accentuate her fake bored look. 

“Yes. I originally wanted to try and stay neutral, but it’s become clear to me it’s not my destiny.” Lance says. 

“What do you mean by that Captain?” Ryan asks, tilting his head. 

“I had a vision that pretty much told me I _have_ to be involved in the war. However, I do not require the same from all of you if you do not wish to participate in the bloodshed.” Lance says, and he really hopes none of his captains abandon him in what will be a very bloody war, but he won’t force them to stay. “Anyone not willing to join the war on Altea’s side is welcome to leave. I release you from my command.”

It’s silent a moment in the war room as Lance stares hard at the table, the map of Olkarion still pinned beneath the glass. 

“I’m with you Captain.” Luxia says, surprisingly the first to speak. One by one after her declaration, all of his captains reiterate the statement. Lance doesn’t know if he wants to sigh in relief or cry that they’re willing to die for him. 

“Then it’s settled. Adam, if you will grab me a map of Daibazal’s castle and arena? It’s the blue one at the bottom of the stack.” Lance says, turning in his seat to address the man who turned out to be Shiro’s lover. Adam grabs him the map needed after a moment of rifling through the papers, not quite as familiar with them as Hunk is, finally dragging out the blue map. 

He pulls out the center of the table, replacing the map, and handing the map of Olkarion backwards to Adam. 

He circles the Arena, his map a detailed blueprint of the fortress and the Emperor’s castle too. He spent a lot of money getting this. Now he knows why he wanted it so badly. His Spirit Magic must have told him to get it for this exact reason. Just how long has his magic been driving his actions subconsciously?

“Why do you have a detailed blueprint of the castle and the Arena? _How_ do you have a detailed blueprint of the castle and Arena?” Kogane demands standing over the table to look down in shock at the detailed map. 

“I got it years ago, shortly after I first became Captain actually. I started stockpiling rare and hard to get blueprints and maps of all four countries, but this one I just _had_ to have. I guess now I know that it was my Spirit Magic pushing me to get this.” Lance explains. He reaches up and sets a hand on Kogane’s shoulder, his entire arm warming up from the heat Kogane gives off. After forcing away the urge to yank Kogane around and kiss him right there, he gently pushes him back into his seat.

He doesn’t remove his hand for a few long seconds.

“Now, due to some previous reconnaissance Kogane made, we know that they rotate the prisoners every day, always leaving one cell open to prevent anyone from trying to escape. We also have an estimate of the guard numbers and where they’re located during a match.” Lance says. He’s about to continue when Florona interrupts him. 

“How does leaving one cell open prevent prisoners from escaping?” Florona asks, tilting her head almost completely sideways, ear nearly touching her shoulder. Kogane clears his throat, and Lance waves for him to speak. 

“By rotating the prisoners everyday, it makes it more difficult for them to tunnel out or try to break the bars in secret, and leaving the one cell open allows for the guards to inspect a different cell each day.” Kogane explains. Lance’s Captains listen tentatively, while Lance spends the explanation examining them. He’s secretly looking for anyone to be exuding any hostility as Kogane speaks, and he’s pleased when he finds none. “If the guards ever find anything suspicious in a cell, they punish the last one to be placed there, whether it was that person who did it or not.”

“You know this how again?” James asks. 

“My brother told me about one of the few times we got to see each other since his imprisonment, speaking Olkarion since that language isn’t very widespread as Altean or Balmeran is in Daibazal.” Kogane explains. When there’s no more questions, Lance picks up where he left off. 

“We need four things to happen all at once.” Lance says, holding up four fingers and ticking them off as he speaks. “One group will take out the guard station. One group will escort the prisoners to safety. One group will be guarding the exit, and one group will attack the match going on. They will be taking out as many guards as possible and then taking off with that prisoner or prisoners.”

“It sounds like the hardest jobs will be the guard station and the match.” Ina muses.

“Indeed. The guard station group have to take out all the guards quickly and silently before any of them can sound the warning bell and call reinforcements from the castle.” Lance explains. “That is the _last thing_ we want, and should the guards manage to call for reinforcements we have to retreat. There’s no way we could fend them all off while safely guarding the prisoners.”

“Not even with eleven full crews of pirates?” Beezer asks. Lance shakes his head. 

“That’s too many people, it would be too obvious. This isn’t a full scale siege. I don’t want your crewmen, I want you guys. I know how each of you fight, how each of you think, and I can trust all of you to follow my orders.” 

“So it’s just us in this room going on the rescue mission then?” James follows up. Lance shakes his head. 

“No, we’re missing one more person. However they couldn’t be here in time for this meeting.” Lance says. 

“Who is this person?” Plaxum asks. This time Kogane is the one to answer.

“My First Mate, Krolia. She’s not very powerful in terms of magic, but her sword skills are twice as good as mine, if not more. She’ll be on the guard station group, because she’s incredibly good at stealth attacks.” Kogane says, sounding kind of proud of his admittance of being weaker than someone else. 

“I remember, she was your major player in taking my ship everytime you attacked us.” James says, leaning back in his chair. Kogane winces at the reminder, but luckily James just sighs and waves it off. “Well strategizing isn’t my strong suit, so I don’t know if I’m much help in that regard.”

“Yeah, we know, you hot head.” Luxia snarks. Lance sighs and presses a finger to his temple. 

“What did you just say to me!?” James growls, already rising from his seat. 

“Case and point.” Luxia says with a smirk. Lance slams his hand down on the table at the same time he increases his magic output to nearly freeze the room again. The table frosts where Lance’s hand slams down, but he reels his magic in before he can go any further. James and Luxia silently back down and Lance eases up on his magic again. 

“Now then. Back to the matter at hand.” Lance growls out. “Kogane’s original plan had too many holes, so a condition of the deal was that I make my own plan, with your help of course. So stop it with the pissing contests already, or I swear to the Gods I will freeze you both to your chairs and leave you there overnight!” James and Luxia share a look with slightly terrified eyes. Good, they remember what happens when they incur Lance’s wrath. 

“Yes Captain.” They say at the same time. Lance relaxes back into his chair at last, confident they’ll play nice for now. So long as he can distract them from each other, he won’t have to play babysitter. 

“Good. Now, back to the plan.”


	46. Legends of the First Mages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith tells a story about the Daibazalee legends of how the first elemental mages came to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fudge this chapter is long

“I’m exhausted. Planning and strategizing is so boring.” James complains, leaning back against the stack of crates he’s using as a chair. Lance rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his ale and he reclines back against the mast he’s using as his own chair. They’ve been strategizing all day, and it’s so late his crew are already back from going out on the town and are asleep already. 

All of them decided to have a drink or two before separating to get some sleep and then picking up where they left off tomorrow.

“Stop complaining meat head.” Luxia snaps at him, again, since this is the fourth time he’s made a verbal complaint since they adjourned. Lance sips at his ale again. 

“Play nice.” He warns, and like the last four times they both back down from the fight, which will only last for another few minutes. 

“You know you could always leave if you’re really that tired.” Ina says plainly, as she has for that past four times. James scoffs.

“And miss out on the bonding time between captains? No way.” James says, as he has the last four times. Lance is about ready to give up and send them all packing to get some sleep but he’s really not that tired. This time of night is when he’s the most awake. He doesn’t know why. He could be exhausted and burnt out but he’s always awake at this time of night. 

Most of the time he’s awake because he likes the quiet, but it seems so long as he is awake, so will the others be. Not including Rolo, Nyma, Adam, and Hunk. They all left for bed the moment he called it a night on strategizing. 

“Hey I’ve got a question.” Nadia asks, her energy spiking where she had been half asleep only moments before. 

“For who?” Lance asks. 

“The Dragon.” 

“I have a name you know, you don’t have to keep calling me ‘The Dragon’ all the time.” Kogane says, sounding like he’s half annoyed, half amused. 

“Why was your brother taken prisoner?” Nadia asks. “Like, you told Lance it was because he was too vocal in his opinions, but what’s the real reason?”

Kogane doesn’t answer for a moment. “Well. That is the real reason, only simplified. He was a major activist trying to reform the Empire’s governing body, trying to take some of the power away from the royals to give to the people. He made a lot of enemies, but the Emperor knew if he arrested Shiro without just cause, the people would riot, and he can’t run a powerful Empire if half of its citizens are dead in the streets.”

“Wow, so what did he do to finally get arrested?” Nadia asks and Lance doesn’t miss the dark look in Kogane’s eyes. He wants to know Kogane’s answer, but he doesn’t want to see him upset. 

“He was just telling the old stories of the first mages to a group of children, and the Emperor had him arrested for ‘Corrupting the future generation’.” Kogane practically hisses out the words. 

“First mages? What do you mean?” Nadia asks, thankfully skirting the more touchy subject of Shiro’s arrest. The new topic allows some of that violet color to return to Kogane’s eyes and Lance finds himself unable to look away. He likes that color. 

“Do you not know of the old legends of how the first magic users came into existence?” Kogane asks. He gets a group of heads shaking no in answer to his question. It makes his eyebrows shoot up and the full brilliance of the violet to return. 

“Well, Shiro was the better storyteller but the legends are fun to learn about. There’s a different story for each form of magic, including the three rare magics, Light, Dark, and Spirit.” Kogane explains. 

“Cool!” Florona says. “If you tell me the stories I’ll give you a kiss!” 

“Uh.” Kogane says unsurely. “I’ll have to refuse the kiss, seeing as I don’t swing for your team. But I’ll still tell you the stories anyways.”

“Called it!” Beezer yells, reaching across the circle to Lume, who huffs. “Pay up!”

“What?” Kogane says with a bewildered look on his face. Lance glances around his group of Captains and Kogane and Pidge to see most of them rolling their eyes or shaking their heads. It was no secret about Beezer and Lume’s bet about Kogane’s sexuality, but Lance can’t recall _why_ the subject was even introduced. 

They sit roughly in a circle, Lance up against the main mast, Pidge tucked close to his side for warmth she surely will never find with him, but he slipped off his coat and handed it over anyways. He can handle a little chill, he always does. To his right, the five Captains of the Majesty fleet, James closest to Lance, Ryan beside him. To his left, the five Captains of the Serenity fleet, Luxia closest to Lance on the other side of Pidge, and Plaxum beside her. And directly across from him is a bewildered Kogane, hair pulled up high on his head with a leather strap, leaving the lower half of his hair hanging against his neck. 

He had shed his coat, using it as a pillow as he leaned against his own stack of crates. They had spread them out around the main mast to allow everyone something to lean against, even though Nadia is laying down and using hers as a footrest. 

“Ignore them. Continue.” Lance says, dragging Kogane’s attention to Lance and heating him up with just a glance in his direction. Wow, Kogane really doesn’t know the power he holds over Lance right now.

“Alright well. I’ll start with the legend of the first Fire Mage, since it’s my own affinity.” Kogane starts. “It was an older man who lived in a small village, one close to a volcano. It’s said that one year, the normally dormant volcano suddenly started to become active, and the village chief declared that the volcano would erupt. The village, in response, immediately began packing up to flee for safety.”

“Oh no those poor villagers.” Florona whispers, close to tears. Lance isn’t sure if he wants to roll his eyes or laugh at her attachment to ancient and/or fictional people.

“The man who would become the first master of fire wanted so desperately to save the villagers’ homes, to stave off the destruction, that he garnered the favor of the gods. They told him he had a choice. Throw himself into the volcano and protect his village, or flee like the rest and suffer in poverty. He chose the former, and he trekked up the mountain, the air thinning and getting hotter the closer he got to the volcano’s opening.” Kogane says, and he pauses for the very expected gasp of Florona.

“Kill himself? Who would do that?” Florona asks, hands over her mouth as she listened with rapt attention. Her dramatic response makes both Lance and Kogane smile, who continues with the story unhindered.

“When he got there he threw himself into the volcano at the gods request, expecting to burn into ashes in seconds. Instead of dying however, the man’s body absorbed the heat until it no longer burned him, and when he rose from the lava, he used his newfound power to siphon the heat from the lava, cooling it into rock. When he returned to the village, he took on students, passing down the fire in his veins and creating more mages who control fire.” Kogane says, not even finishing with a flourish. He’s right, he’s not a very good story teller, but the story itself is interesting.

“Do water next.” Lance says. 

“Naturally, since water is fire’s natural counterpart.” Kogane says, and Lance rolls his eyes. “The story of the water mage features a woman, who had disguised herself as a man so that she could sail the seas and discover new places. One day a storm had appeared on the water, capsizing the boat she was on and sending her plunging into the depths.” 

“Not another one!” Florona whimpers. Plaxum pats her shoulder awkwardly. Kogane laughs.

“All of them are pretty much based around death, Florona.” Kogane says with an awkward smile. Florona stops whimpering to stare at him with wide eyes. 

“You know my name?” Florona asks.

“Yes?” Kogane says looking unsure of himself. “I know all of your names? You introduced yourselves didn’t you?”

“Yeah but, I didn’t think you would care to remember any of our names, especially since none of us even bothered to introduce ourselves to you personally.” Florona says, her sadness for these people without names in legends that probably aren’t true gone with the wind. Kogane tilts his head, a confused look on his face. _Oh lord he looks like a cat when he does that, so cute! Wait, bad Lance._

“Why wouldn’t I remember your names? You’re all important to McClain right? If he thinks you’re important then I should remember your names.” Kogane explains plainly and it makes Lance’s face flush when he looks right at Lance when he says it.

“What does Lance have to do with it?” Luxia asks. Her eyes are pinned on Kogane’s face, waiting for him to lie or reveal a weakness. She’s like that sometimes. 

Kogane tilts his head to the other side as he thinks and then shrugs. “No clue. Just a feeling.”

“Okay.” Lance finally says, cutting off the sudden interrogation. “What happened to the girl in the water?”

“Oh right. Uh.” Kogane says, thinking. He snaps his fingers when he recalls where he left off. “Oh yeah. So the storm sent her into the sea, but her desire to explore and see the world with her own eyes was so powerful it bent the water to her will. She used this power to save herself and her crewmates, who she eventually taught to do the same, who went on to teach others. She spent her entire life travelling the seas as a pirate, discovering new lands.”

“Do Earth next! I want to know about my element!” Florona says excitedly. 

“Earth actually has two stories, one for the main magic, and one for healing magic.” Kogane says. He taps his chin in thought. Then his face brightens with a grin, and he conjures up a flame in his hand. Lance smiles as he remembers how Kogane had used his flames to form a visual of the arena, and now he’s using it to add a little flare to his storytelling. 

“If I’m remembering correctly, it’s about a young blind girl who ran away from home and got lost in the forest. Her hearing was stronger than a normal person’s to make up for her missing sense of sight, so she could hear the animals and the streams and noises of the forest. She used it to learn how to hunt silently and live off the land and find water wherever she went. She survived for years in the forest, alone, never able to find her way out and never trying that hard to do so either.” The flames shift and flicker as he tells the story, showing a young girl and a forest in the flames. 

“And one day she was attacked by bandits, and unable to defend herself, she screamed for help and threw her hands up to protect her face.” He uses his magic to depict this image, an image of the girl, older and taller, being attacked by a group of flame bandits. His control and mastery of fire is an extraordinary thing to behold when Lance isn’t on the receiving end of it. 

“After a moment the bandits were dead, and the girl soon realized the Earth itself had heeded her call for help. She eventually learned how to command the Earth without having to ask for it out loud, and she became the first Earth mage.” Kogane ends the story by showing the girl growing up more, learning to control the Earth at her will.

“The story of healing magic is also about the blind girl, now a woman.” Kogane continues, not even needing prompting this time. The flames in his hand shift and grow to represent the girl maturing from childhood to adulthood. “One day, out of nowhere, the Earth starts drawing her through the woods, calling to her to leave the forest.” The flames show the woman moving through the woods as she chases the moving mound of earth, like a giant mole was tunneling beneath the surface. 

“She eventually came to a town, and the Earth pushed her forward, leaving her to find her own way. She walks through town lost and unsure of what to do with herself, and then her hearing catches on the sound of a child running straight towards her. The child practically crashes into her and begs her to help save the other children being held against their will. Those children were forced to do-” Kogane pauses and scowls, even his magic flaring with anger and disturbing the images of a child holding onto the woman’s legs. “Unsavory acts.” Kogane eventually says when his magic returns to normal. 

“You don’t mean what I think you mean do you?” James demands. Kogane nods. 

“At the time there wasn’t a word for it, but we know it now as child sex trafficking. Needless to say, the blind woman tore the criminals apart.” He pauses speaking as his magic depicts the woman brutally destroying a hoard of men with Earth magic and rescuing a room full of children. “But there were a lot of children with serious injuries that would kill them if they weren’t miraculously healed. In desperation, the woman begged the Earth to do something, to help them somehow. And the Earth, once again moved to help the blind woman, gave her the ability to heal the children with her own magic by giving them a little bit of magic on their own.” 

“I’m surprised.” Pidge says, lifting her head off of Lance’ shoulder where she had been quietly listening to the stories. “That legend even ties in to how healing magic works. Healers use their magic to force the healing process on someone else, using the injured person’s own magic to heal them with a boost from the healing magic.”

Kogane nods, closing his hand and willing the images away. “Yes, it’s why there’s still a lot of people who believe the legends to be fact.”

“What about air magic?” James asks. 

“Ah the air mages.” Kogane says, raising his hand to depict the story again. “This one is of a young boy who was lost adrift at sea. No one knows who he was before the story begins, or how he became adrift at sea. He had been adrift for almost a week, and everyday was only more suffering. His skin was burnt so bad he couldn’t move, and he was hungry and dehydrated. One day he asks the gods to give him a breeze to ease the heat, and shockingly the wind grants his wish, washing over his skin with a cold wind to ease the burn.”

“I’m seeing a pattern here.” Ina says. Kogane nods. 

“I’ll explain why in a moment.” Kogane says, and Ina nods and settles back against her crate to listen further. “The boy, curious and maybe delirious, decides to ask the wind to blow harder. The wind listens. In one last attempt to prove to himself he’s seeing things, he asks the wind to move his wood a few feet across the water. And the wind does as asked. At last the boy asks the wind to blow him towards the closest shore, and suddenly the wind gets stronger, sending the piece of wood bouncing across the waves of the ocean.”

Kogane’s magic shows a boy on a raft bouncing across the open sea, small curling wisps of flame indicating wind as the images move and shift. He continues on with the story. “Thrilled at the feeling of soaring through the air, but terrified every time he drops back to the water, he asks the wind to stop dropping him to the ocean, and then he really was flying. The force of the wind rips the driftwood away leaving only the boy soaring through the air, and the boy eventually starts playing with the wind, until eventually he doesn’t have to ask the wind to do anything, he just does it on his own.”

“So the pattern?” Ina asks when Kogane finishes the story and disperses his flame. 

“As I said, water is fire’s natural counterpart as air is the earth’s. As light is to darkness. The stories are parallels of each other. Fire and water are both wild elements, doing as they please, so the mages had to do something to either impress the element enough to allow them to control it, or to force the element to bend to their will. The fire mage was the former, the water mage the later.” Kogane goes on to explain, raising his hands to gesture while he speaks, which he usually doesn’t do. Kogane usually doesn’t speak with his hands. 

“Meanwhile, Earth and Air are both stable elements, always present, there no matter where you go. No matter how far into the ocean you sail there is always Earth, and there is always air. These two elements, often like their mages, desire to help those in need, so when the first mages asked for the element’s help, that’s all they needed to do to gain the power of control over the elements.” Kogane explains further and Lance raises an eyebrow as he almost starts to rant at them. 

He’s… really passionate about these stories. It’s fascinating to see.

“Another parallel is the genders and ages. The fire and water mages were both older, and one was a male and one a female.” Kogane continues, speaking almost too fast to be understood. “The Earth and air mages were both children at the time they first gained the power to control an element, one male and one female. It’s different regarding the three rare elements though, their stories as unique as their affinities.”

“You’ve really thought about these stories a lot, haven’t you?” Lance asks, and Kogane’s face flushes in embarrassment. 

“Well, before I learned to control my magic, Shiro used to calm me down with these stories. Or any stories really, but these were always the best ones. My favorite stories are the ones of the light and dark mages.” Kogane says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. 

“Well don’t leave us in suspense Dragon boy!” Nadia yells excitedly, her feet kicking in the air where she still lays down with her feet propped up. 

“Dragon boy?” Kogane asks in a very cute, very confused tone. 

“Oh em gee, you’re precious. Come on tell the story!” Nadia says. 

“Precious? Not too long ago he was all of our enemy.” Plaxum muses. Nadia waves her hand at Plaxum dismissively and Lance laughs quietly into his mug of ale. 

“Whatever, story time! Go!” Nadia commands. 

“Um, okay.” Kogane says unsurely, warily glancing at Lance and then pouting when he sees Lance’s half hidden smile. “The story of the light and dark mage is actually the same story. There were two boys, twins, who were born as opposite as can be. The eldest, the eventual light mage, was pure of heart, kind, and generous beyond comparison. He only ate enough to sate his hunger, only took what money he needed to survive with and gave the rest to those less privileged, and was always willing to help others at the drop of the hat.” Kogane says, using his magic to depict a man with a big smile on his face in a light yellow flame in one hand. In the other hand, the flame is a blue color, depicting almost the same thing, except this man is frowning. 

“The youngest however, was greedy, cruel, lustful and mischievous. He took whatever he could get his hands on, by force if necessary, and never went out of his way for another.” Kogane smiles as he raises each hand, one after the other as he speaks. “Their names were Yin, the eldest, and Yang, the youngest.”

“Wait, as in Yin and Yang? The symbols of balance?” Pidge asks. 

“Precisely. I’m not sure which came first though, the symbols of balance, or the story of the twins.” Kogane muses. 

“Just continue! I’m dying here. I wanna know what happens next!” Nadia complains, and Kogane laughs at her but does as she asks. 

“Yin loved his brother with everything he had, even though Yang never felt anything but the opposite. When Yang grew older, he became so jealous and hateful towards his brother he tried everything to eliminate him, but everytime he tried he failed.” Kogane disperses the image of Yin, focusing on Yang. “So Yang turned to trying to gain power in a new way, trying to control what never should have been controlled. The Dark arts, Black magic, call it what you will.” 

Then he changes back to focusing on Yin. “Yin, seeing that Yang’s heart was blackened with darkness, decided to try and take some of that darkness away, to heal his brother’s heart. The force that he was trying to use to help his brother soon became light magic. The day the brothers broke the seal and controlled their own element, was the day the gods cried out in rage.”

“Ooh they’re in trouble.” Florona taunts to no one. Lance snorts, and tries to hide his amusement in his ale, which is almost gone now. 

“Both of the brothers, after becoming more powerful by the day as they harnessed their magic, faced each other for the last time in a huge magic battle. The brothers were so evenly matched, the fighting lasted for seven whole days, and on the last day, Yang finally got the upper hand.” Kogane says, showing the two brothers fighting with his fire magic. The images are really good, Lance wonders if he could do the same thing with water or ice magic. “Without wasting a moment, Yang killed Yin, but before he could claim victory he fell dead right after, and they laid side by side as the seventh day’s sun set.”

“Wait what?” Lance blurts. “Why is Yang dead, he won! I know he’s the bad guy in the story but that doesn’t make sense!”

“I’m getting there, hold your horses!” Kogane laughs. Well, at least Kogane’s eyes are a pretty color, and at least his laugh is nice to listen too. Even if his story makes no sense. 

“Well, unlike the natural elements, light and dark were never meant to be harnessed by a human. And neither can live without the other. The light cannot fully cast away the shadows, and the dark can never fully consume the light. And when the brothers harnessed a magic that was never supposed to exist, they tied their souls to each other, and just as much cursed themselves as well.” Kogane goes on to explain, returning to his rant-like way of speaking. It makes Lance want to sigh and listen to him rant all night. 

That’s a weird thing to think.

“They say that when Yin and Yang died, their souls were rejected from the gods’ domain, and cursed to forever chase each other as the sun chases the moon and vice versa.” Kogane says, no longer using his magic to tell the story since there’s not much left to tell. “Their souls were reincarnated over and over again, cursed to kill each other and start from the beginning. Legend has it that when the brothers can live a lifetime without bringing the other to death, is when they will finally be accepted into the gods’ domain.”

“That’s so cruel, why would the gods do that?” Nadia pouts, whining about the unfairness of the fate of the brothers. 

“I don’t know, I find it kind of fitting.” Kogane says with a serious look on his face as he stares in the flickering lantern in the center of the circle. “The brothers were both playing with a power that never should have been accessible to humans. They were overzealous and arrogant, even the eldest. Neither of them ever thought to just sit down and have a conversation. The youngest was greedy and murderous, while the eldest was naive and overly trusting. They took their petty disagreements to the extreme by harnessing a power that didn’t belong to them, and they paid the price for it. The day both brothers can admit fault to their own actions, is the day they will be released from their curse.”

“But still.” Pidge says, not moving her head from Lance’s shoulder as she speaks, wrapped in Lance’s coat like a child and her baby blanket. Lance finds her utterly adorable as she pushes up her too big glasses. “Forcing them to kill each other every time they’re reincarnated is a little over the edge.”

“Well technically they aren’t _forced_ to kill each other, it’s just what happens every time they reincarnate. Their feud is so powerful it transcends lifetimes.” Kogane says. He leans forward on his propped up leg, gesturing with the arm on it, the other holding his almost full mug of ale in his lap. “They aren’t always related in every lifetime, but no matter who they are or how far apart they are from each other, they always manage to find each other, and it always ends up in the death of them both.”

“Okay, I’ll concede.” Pidge says, this time sitting up. “What I want to know is why only the light and dark mages have names?”

“They all have names, the four common elements just got lost in time. Since Yin and Yang, and Roya were all featured in other cultures, their names lived on.” Kogane explains and Lance sits at attention.

“Roya? As in the Priestess Roya? She’s the one from the legend of Spirit Magic?” Lance asks. 

“Wait, didn’t you say you were Roya’s descendant?” Ryan asks, which is surprising, he would have thought Ina or Swirn would have been the first to ask him that. 

“Yeah, I did.” Lance answers but he raises an eyebrow at Kogane for an answer to his questions.

“The same one, although Daibazal knows her as The Seer. I guess I don’t have to explain that legend.” Kogane says with a small amused smile on his face. 

“Guess not.” Lance muses, knocking back the last of his ale. 

“Hey Lance, I’m curious. Could you see far enough into the past to know if these legends are true?” Pidge asks, tilting her head up at him. Lance thinks about it for a moment. 

“I guess I could-” Lance starts to say when he’s hit so hard with a Knowing it makes him nauseous. “Never mind, my magic magic tells me that’s a bad idea.”

“Bad how? What would happen if you tried?” James asks.

“Is it a vision or a knowing?” Ina follows up. 

“A knowing, and it’s warning me against trying that.” Lance responds. “And I don’t know, it’s just a feeling.”

“Could you put the feeling into words?” Kogane asks. Lance hums a moment before shrugging. 

“I could try.” Lance says, and he sets his empty mug to the side to focus on that nauseous Knowing, trying to make it form actual words instead of just a gut feeling. After a moment his entire body relaxes against his will and he starts speaking without meaning to.

 _“Don’t try it, you are not strong enough. Just wait a little longer.”_ Lance says out loud and he hears the words come out in his voice, but he never made the intention of saying them.

“Uh, what language was that?” Florona asks. 

Lance blinks and the forced relaxation leaves him, giving him back full control of his body again. His eyebrows lower in confusion. “What are you talking about, I didn’t speak in anything other than Common.”

“No, _we’re_ speaking Common, you didn’t.” Luxia says. 

Suddenly Kogane speaks in another language, but Lance understands it perfectly, even though he doesn’t know what language it is. “You said something, then _'you are not strong enough.'_ And then something else.” 

“Wait, you speak it too?” Pidge demands. Kogane raises his hands in surrender and shakes his head. 

“No, I just mimicked what he said. I’m really good at mimicking people.” Kogane explains. 

“You just said ‘you are not strong enough’. Except, I don’t know what language that was, even though I can understand it.” Lance says, even confusing himself. How did he know what Kogane just said?

“Maybe it’s related to Spirit magic? A language only Spirit Mages can understand?” Pidge suggests. “I’ll see if I can find any mention in those books I got. I hope they’re a little more enlightening on your second affinity.” 

Lance nods and then pauses. “Wait a minute. Roya says that Spirit Magic is a part of all of her descendants, so does that make my ice magic my second affinity?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, it’s pretty common for mages with more than one affinity to be drained using one that’s not their main affinity.” Ina says, pushing her glasses up her nose. 

“That’s right, and everytime you have a vision it exhausts you.” Pidge points out. Lance has to agree, his visions are exhausting to go through, although he’s been lucky enough to not have any since that forced vision of Shiro.

“Have you had visions of any of us?” Plaxum asks.

“Uh, not really. I’ve had lots of visions about a few people I know, and some of people I don’t know or don’t know yet.” Lance says. 

“Who have you had visions of?” This time it’s Beezer asking, and Lance swore the man was asleep a few minutes ago. Lance ponders the question. 

“A few of Kogane and me, most of them vague, I had a vision of Hunk, and a vision of Shiro. I’ve had one of Pidge, one of Roya, and one of King Alfor. A half vision of Princess Allura. And the rest were of strangers.” Lance recounts. 

“You’ve had more than one vision of me?” Kogane asks in bewilderment. Lance nods. 

“Oh yeah, but I’m not telling you what they were until after they happen, I would rather not change the outcomes. As for Pidge, I had the vision right before it happened.” Lance explains. 

“What vision?” Pidge asks. 

“Remember when Kogane nearly killed you? If I had known of my Spirit Magic at the time, I would have been able to save you from harm instead of forcing an unnatural healing.” Lance says, frowning at his own naivete back then. If he had just trusted his instincts and moved, things might have been different. But then again, Lance isn’t sure he would like the change in events after. “I saw it happen literally moments before, and I was too confused to stop it from happening.”

“Hey it’s okay, things worked out pretty well. Don’t blame yourself.” Pidge says, nudging his arm with a worried look on her face. Lance eases his lips into a smile to make her stop worrying, but he doesn’t respond. 

“Wait a minute.” James says, and Lance watches as his head snaps towards Kogane. “You almost killed Captain’s protege?” At James’ words every single one of his Captains turn to Kogane with hostility, and Lance scrambles to his feet.

“Uh.” Kogane says. “Technically?”

Lance plants himself in front of Kogane just as swords are drawn by at least five of his Captains, James and Luxia included. Oh great, _this_ they agree on? “Now, now, settle down. No need for that.” 

“He almost killed your protege!” Luxia growls, stepping forward with a glare on her face. 

“I know, and I almost killed myself healing her without Healing Magic. Put your swords away and walk it off.” Lance snaps. “In fact, go to bed, all of you, that’s an order. I suggest you check your hostility at the docks and leave it there.”

“But Captain!” Nadia calls out, her daggers held tight in her hand. Lance doesn’t let her continue as he draws his own sword. 

“Do not make me repeat myself.” He warns. Luxia and James both growl before sheathing their swords simultaneously, the rest of his Captains following suit. Good. 

“We apologize for disobeying your order to treat the Dragon with respect Captain.” Luxia says, sounding sincere even as she shoots one last glare over Lance’s shoulder. When she faces Lance again her face softens considerably and she salutes him. 

“As do we Captain.” James says, saluting and sparing Kogane a last glare. Lance slowly sheaths his sword with a metallic shing. 

“I accept your apologies, now seriously, get some sleep. We still have to finish strategizing tomorrow.” Lance says calmly. They all bid him goodnight, slumping back to their ships for a good night’s rest. Lance moves back to his place against the mast, snatching up someone’s unfinished ale and knocking it back hard. He hates having to pull the Captain card and order his friends around, but sometimes they need it to remind them that Lance is in charge. 

“I’m confused, why were they so willing to kill Keith just because something happened forever ago?” Pidge asks. Lance doesn’t even open his eyes as he feels two people move closer to him, Pidge resettling against Lance, Kogane moving closer now that the group has diminished considerably. 

“I’m confused too, we were getting along pretty well all day.” Kogane says. 

“It’s because I’ve taken you on as my protege Pidge.” Lance sighs, deciding to just tell her and get it over with. 

“Okay but, what does that have to do with anything?” Pidge asks. She hasn’t figured it out yet? Lance opens his eyes to look at her and no, she hasn’t figured it out yet, her face an open book of confusion. 

“This ship is a pretty special ship. It wasn’t originally mine. This ship was passed down to me by _my_ Captain, and he got it from _his_ Captain and so forth. There’s many traditions and history built into the Serpent Lion. One of them is the changing of the name. Every time this ship is passed down to another, the new Captain renames the ship with the previous one’s blessing. It symbolizes new beginnings and new adventures.” Lance explains, making sure Pidge listens to every word. She’ll need it someday. 

“Okay but that doesn’t answer my question.” Pidge huffs at him. Lance rolls his eyes with a smile. 

“I’m getting there. Another tradition is the Captain’s protege. The protege, you, is trained and taught by the Captain everything he or she knows. When the Captain decides it’s time, he or she hands the ship down to the protege, serving as a temporary First Mate until the protege gets their feet beneath them, and finally decides on a new name. My Captain stayed on as my First Mate for three months, but there’s no set time limit.” Lance finishes off. Pidge’s eyes widen in shock as she finally gets the picture he’s painting. 

“You’re leaving!?” _Wrong picture._

“No you idiot, I’m training you for the day that I do leave, which won’t be anytime soon.” Lance says. 

“Oh, so one day this ship will be mine?” Pidge asks, and Lance nods. 

“Yes, that’s why my Captains were so quick to try and attack Kogane for hurting my protege, even if neither of us hold hostility over it ourselves. They know who you are to me, and they’re willing to lay down their lives for you and me both.” Lance says. 

“What if I don’t want the ship?” Pidge asks. 

“Then I suggest you let me know when you decide you don’t want my mantle so that I can move on to a new prospective protege.” Lance says, and Pidge’s face contorts. Lance ruffles a hand through her hair, feeling distinct violet eyes watching him as he does this. Lance ignores them. “Now get some sleep. We all have a long day ahead of us.”


	47. Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith get to third base, barely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna double update since this one was short, but please feel free to comment! (read: _please_ comment I love hearing your feedback guys!)

They settle on a plan after two days of back and forths, barely getting a chance to rest. 

It’s not foolproof, in fact Lance sees way too many ways it could go south. Obviously not See, as in visions, he had already tried that. Multiple times. His magic refused him everytime he tried. But the plan is the best they’ve got, so now all that they have to do is wait on the Dragon’s Fire, and get some rest before they can set sail. 

Lance is actually doing just that, or trying to at least. 

But stupid Kogane and his stupid nightly workouts are distracting. Lance can’t even pretend he’s not watching. He openly stares as Kogane does push ups, grunting quietly as he forces himself up and down. Those arms of his are particularly eye catching, the muscles twitching and straining with every movement. Sweat makes the smooth, slightly scarred, pale as milk skin glisten in the low moonlight filtering through the window. Lance can’t help his staring, a sweaty and out of breath Kogane makes for a very nice view.

Kogane reaches plank position and he looks up at Lance with a half hearted glare. 

“It’s kind of hard to do my workouts with you staring, McClain.” Kogane huffs. Lance licks his lips as he watches a bead of sweat trail down his chin. 

“By all means, don’t stop on my account.” Lance says in a deeper voice than he had meant to use. He can’t help it, Kogane just makes him want to make him sweat for a completely different and far more fun reason. 

“Not helping.” Kogane huffs, standing up from his plank position and stretching out his arms. 

“Hm, I’m not doing anything.” Lance hums out, watching happily as Kogane twists his body to the left and then the right, stretching out his back. He’s shirtless again, so Lance gets a front row seat to watch those delicious looking muscles stretch and flex with every movement. Kogane growls at him. 

“Would you like to be doing something?” Kogane asks as he moves across the room to lean over Lance’s form, trapping Lance to the bed with those powerful arms. 

“Oh yes please.” Lance breathes, reaching up and dragging Kogane down by his hair, sweaty and loose and wild, into a searing kiss. 

Keith’s lips are as hot as his fire, burning into Lance like a brand. He craves it even as he’s kissing Keith, wanting more. Keith drags his bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling at it with his teeth and driving Lance crazy. He wants more, needs more. He raises a leg, dragging Keith’s body closer until he’s practically laying on top of him. The weight makes Lance groan low in his throat, and Keith detaches from Lance’s lips and trailing down his neck. 

They have an unspoken agreement that they don’t want Lance’s crew or anyone else knowing about what they’re getting up to, so Keith doesn’t leave visible hickeys.

Keith pulls back with a growl staring down at Lance with hooded eyes.

He tugs at Lance’s night shirt, and he immediately sits up to whisk the damned fabric away, exposing his own body to Keith’s viewing pleasure. Just Keith’s eyes on him makes him hot, makes him desperate. 

His eyes melt him, looking over Lance's body with a kind of hunger he’s never seen. Something animalistic. Something wild. It sets his skin on fire, makes him hot for something, for anything. He wants Keith to stop staring and touch him, run his hands down his body, drive him mad with pleasure. 

“Please.” Lance asks in a breathy voice. “Please Keith, I can’t take anymore. I need you.”

“Shhh.” Keith whispers, and he shivers as Keith caresses his face with the back of his hand, running knuckles down his neck gently, slowly. Pressing a palm against the center of his chest and dragging down, down, down over his stomach. His stomach muscles twitch with the light, feathery touch of calloused fingers. Worn rough over years of wielding swords like another limb. “Quiet now, I’ll take care of you.” 

Keith's voice is like honey, his eyes predatory as his head dips. 

He watches, eyes never leaving Keith’s as that head of wild black hair, that of which is usually tied back with a leather strip, but right now is loose and framing those hungry eyes in such a beautiful picture, moves lower. His head snaps back as Keith’s teeth digs into his hip, right over where the waistline of his pants are. 

He gasps desperately for more. 

Keith smiles a wicked smile, something that excites him, makes his body flush and arousal stir beneath the pants he wears. “Now, be patient little Serpent. I’m trying to enjoy this.” 

He whimpers as those tantalizing teeth hook onto his pants, dragging them down slowly, Lance lifting his hips up to help the path Keith makes. The action makes a dark chuckle escape Keith’s lips, even with the fabric held in his mouth. 

“I like it when you’re under me Lance.” Keith says as he tosses the pants away. 

“Don’t get cocky on me now.” Lance teases, raising his leg and pulling Keith in close for a deep kiss, biting at Keith’s lips in the way he likes, the way that drives the mighty Dragon to his knees. Keith groans into his mouth, then pulls away and nips at Lance’s neck, making him arch upwards with a gasp. 

“Pot meet kettle.” Keith snarks, running a hand down Lance’s exposed thigh, reaching back to grip the ankle hooked around his hip and pulling it away, using both hands to spread Lance’s legs for Keith’s viewing pleasure. “That’s a little better.” Keith murmurs into the skin of Lance’s hip, sucking a bruise to match the one he made with his teeth on the other hip. 

Lance arches when that mouth, sinful and dirty, wraps around Lance’s-

_Oh god._

Lance groans low in his throat as he is engulfed in heat, pleasure racing up his spine. He hasn’t had a chance to indulge his desires for a long time now, so his skin feels overly sensitive. Deprived of touch, deprived of pleasure. 

Lance bites back a whine as Keith takes his time, let’s the pleasure build slow and sweet. It makes Lance shiver with the knowledge that Keith has him completely at his mercy. Keith could walk away right now and Lance would be on his knees begging for more. 

Keith let’s go of him and raises his head.

“Top or bottom Lance.” Keith demands with a growl to his voice. Seriously? He’s asking _now?_ When he already has Lance ready to obey his every command?

“Bottom, definitely bottom.” Lance breathes out. He desperately wants to know just how Keith performs as a top, and it’s a desperation he’s willing to give in to at any moment.

“Got any-?” Keith doesn’t even finish his question before Lance is answering him. 

“Desk, bottom drawer, probably buried beneath everything in there.” Lance says, wanting Keith to _get on with it already._ Hurry _up._

Keith stands from the bed to grab the bottle of lube from his bottom drawer, having to dig a little before he pulls it out, popping the cap already as he walks closer. And then of course. _Of fucking course._ There’s a knock on his door and he wants to scream in frustration. Keith stops in his tracks, unsure what to do.

Normally he would happily tell whoever it is to shove off and let him have some peace and quiet so he can get laid, but he doesn’t want it getting out that he’s been _trying_ to get Keith in bed with him for a week now. All they’ve managed to do is make out, which is fun and all don't get him wrong, but _dammit_ why does the Gods hate him?

“Lance? Buddy?” Hunk. It’s Hunk, of course it’s Hunk. Lance growls to himself, but he’s already become soft, so he slips on his night clothes quickly to answer the door. He almost throws it open wide, but he doesn’t, keeping the door just wide enough to show his body. 

“Yes Hunk?” Lance sighs. He won’t snap at Hunk, not after he’s _just_ gotten him to go back to being his best friend again. 

“Sorry did I wake you?” Hunk asks sheepishly. Lance just raises an eyebrow. He promised never to lie to Hunk again, so he’ll just keep his mouth shut. 

“What do you need?” Lance asks instead. 

“The Dragon’s Fire just docked, and you told me to tell you immediately when it does. So,” Hunk trails off awkwardly. “I did.”

Lance sighs and nods. It _was_ what Lance told Hunk to do. So he can’t be mad. But he _really_ wishes people would stop interrupting everytime he tries to get laid with Kogane. 

“Thank you Hunk. I’ve got it from here. Get some sleep.” Lance says. Hunk nods and walks off with a yawn. Dammit, he sees the sky pinkening already. The sun is coming up soon. Just Lance’s luck. Not only is he sleep deprived but he’s been cock blocked again. 

Why do bad things always happen to Lance?

He shuts the door to his room with a sigh to see Kogane already dressed with an unhappy look on his face. He stands with crossed arms, head just barely tilted downwards so that his loose black hair shields his eyes. “I’m sick of being interrupted. And now I doubt either of us are getting any sleep tonight.”

“Unfortunately you would be correct. The sun is rising, your mother and ship are here, and I have to deal with my crew when they start waking up so they don’t destroy Lonson Harber.” Lance sighs, moving to his closet and picking out a clean outfit to wear and stripping down. He slows his pace when he feels a hot gaze on his back and he peeks over his shoulder to see Kogane staring at him with barely controlled lust. 

Lance will _definitely_ be taking a piece of that first chance he gets. If he _ever_ gets a chance. 

That reminds him. “By the way, one of my visions about you just came true.” 

That snapped that hot gaze off his ass, and good timing too, Lance wasn’t sure he could make a hard on go down if Kogane kept staring at him like he’s a piece of meat. “Which vision?” Kogane asks, and Lance wants to roll his eyes. What were they _just_ doing not only a few _minutes ago?_

“Do you need me to spell it out for you Kogane? The vision of you having sex with someone? That someone was me, and it cut off before it got anywhere fun.” Lance says. 

“Oh. That explains a lot.” Kogane says simply and suddenly Lance feels eyes on his back again as he slowly slips his clean shirt on. Just for Kogane's viewing pleasure. Lance licks his lips, slipping his thick coat he always wears on to stave off the chill in his bones slowly returning. He turns around as he leaves his shirt untied, wearing a blood red shirt like Kogane usually wears. 

In an instant those violet eyes darken and Kogane is dragging Lance forward into a lustful kiss. One that’s all teeth, pushing and pulling at each other violently, one that makes Lance’s heart race. Lance drags it on as long as he possibly can before they have to split apart to go greet Kogane’s mother.


	48. Organized Massacre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith asks McClain for help getting rid of his awful crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's part two of the double update! Dupdate? Doubdate?

Keith misses McClain. 

They set sail for Daibazal’s capital three days ago, and the trip is a week and a half in total, so he’s back on the Dragon’s Fire. But he misses McClain. Not just because he never got the chance to continue where they left off in his room, due to having his mother caught up to speed, and having to finalize the details of the plan, and having to assign roles to the plan and blah blah blah. He misses McClain- okay no, he can’t think of Lance as McClain anymore, not after he’s tasted what the Serpent has to offer- for more than the making out and the vaguely threatening flirting. 

He says vaguely threatening, because everything Lance says can be taken as flirting or as a threat depending on his tone. 

Keith misses more than all the heated stolen moments. He misses the quiet moments in the middle of the night when both of them are unable to sleep and they talk quietly about nothing and everything. He misses the sound of Lance’s breathing lulling him to sleep, when usually it’s hard for him to manage. And you know what else he misses?

_A competent fucking crew._

The reason Krolia took so long to get here was because, after killing every Empire rat on his ship and staining his ship red, inside and out now, there weren’t enough people to run the ship effectively. So she stopped by the nearest port and picked up a bunch of random greenies. They _still_ get sick at sea, since they haven’t gotten their sea legs yet, so either his crew is bedridden or idiotic, no inbetween. They don’t know a thing about how to run a ship, they think they know everything because Keith is younger so they don’t want to listen to him, and he’s already taken the heads off of five people, and dangled three off his bowsprite as punishment for something. 

He’s long since learned to ignore the screaming and begging men swinging upside down in the air. 

On the bright side, his brutality has earned him fear from the dumbasses who don’t know what they’re doing. On the downside, that means he’s short on his crew again. Hence why he hasn’t killed the three idiots hanging upside down at the front of his ship. _Yet._ And he would ask Lance for help, maybe borrow a few of his extra crewmen because Lance was _smart,_ he has plenty of crew on his ship to fill three whole shifts of work. 

The only problem is Keith doesn’t want to seem inferior. 

Like, until now, The Serpent and the Dragon were equal matches, Keith just managed to get the drop on Lance enough times to paint him the stronger opponent. But now? With this paltry crew? He’s doomed. And with the rescue plan about to go underway, he’s worried these assholes will swipe his ship right out from under him. Should he send a message to Lance and ask for assistance? Would that undermine what little authority he has left if he did? It’s bad enough he can hardly sleep because he’s too busy preparing for a coup and handling his ship. 

Fuck. Message Lance it is. 

He writes the message down quickly to send by air magic, which thankfully his air mage stuck around, choosing to follow Keith instead of the Emperor. He has her send the message off before having to go yell at another of the new hires. They’ll be dead or fired before they ever even breach Daibazalee waters at this point. 

Keith rubs at his forehead desperately to stave off the blasting headache he’s had since seeing the paltry crew he now sports. 

He hears him before he sees him, the sound of rushing water, like a broken dam flooding the area, and Keith sighs in relief as Lance surges over his ship’s railing easily. It’s magnificent to behold, something he’s never gotten the chance to see himself. The rumored Serpent, a serpent created out of ice and water with Lance himself encased in the head, right between the eyes. The breath leaves Keith for more than one reason as the magic made serpent deposits Lance on the quarter deck, Lance walking out of its mouth like it’s a living thing. 

With a wave of Lance’s hand, the gigantic serpent rears back so it’s no longer over his ship, and then freezes solid where it is. 

“Wow.” Keith breathes out and he looks down at a smirking Lance who waves the piece of paper at him. There’s not even water marks on the paper, just how good is Lance’s control of his ice magic?

“Your message was pretty vague Kogane.” Lance says, using his thumb on the hand holding it to maneuver the paper open with one hand and reads aloud. “‘Crew sucks. Need help, come immediately, K.’ So what’s the issue?”

Reminded that the reason he called Lance was for help and not just a social visit, Keith sighs and gestures over his ‘crew’. They stumble around the ship like drunken children and don’t listen to him and mess everything up. Krolia walks their ranks to try and undo the mess she made, but even Keith’s forever collected mother has lost her cool and killed one or two for their stupidity. Apparently she was going for quantity, not quality. And there isn’t enough time to whip these fools into shape. It’ll be hell trying to escape the Empire with this paltry crew. 

He would use a better word to describe them, but Keith doesn’t think there’s a word for the dumbasses in any language known to man. Paltry, so far, is the best he’s come up with. 

Lance whistles low, and shakes his head as he looks over the once pristine and well run Dragon’s Fire. Now everything is wrong. The riggings are in knots, barely holding down the sails. The deck is nearly black with grime because none of them are willing to do ‘a slave’s work’. Keith killed the two guys who dared to say such a thing. His sails are starting to tear because of the improper tying of the ropes. Half the crew is drunk already and it’s midday. The other half is horsing around below deck, or seasick. 

Keith wants to cry at the state of his beautiful ship. 

“How can I help?” Lance asks, and Keith wants to feel relieved when he sees no pity in his eyes. He isn’t though, because his crew sucks enough to need help from his old rival. That’s degrading and emasculating, and he wants this to be over with so he can drink himself stupid in his frustration. 

“How did you get such a wonderfully trained, and respectable crew, and how did you find so _many?”_ Keith asks desperately, he needs to know Lance’s secrets.

“Well, I guess it was my Spirit Magic that told me who was worthy to go through my trials, and who I should turn away.” Lance says, leaning against the railing beside the wheel where Keith steers his slow moving ship. 

“Can you do that to this crew? Give them trials or whatever?” Keith asks and Lance tilts his head to think for a moment. Then Lance shakes his head. 

“It would take too much time, I recommend getting rid of these guys and starting from scratch.” Lance says. Keith shakes his head. 

“I can’t let them go, they know who I am and who I’m allied with now. Word would get out too easily and ruin the rescue plan.” Keith explains. Lance smirks. 

“Who said anything about letting them live?” Lance says, gesturing with his hand of cutting a throat, the universal signal of death. Keith pauses and looks out over his freeloaders.

“Now that’s an idea.” Keith muses, already feeling his blood pump adrenaline through his veins. 

“I think I can help you keep the good ones though.” Lance says, turning around to look out over the ship. Keith cocks an eyebrow in question, despite the fact that Lance isn’t looking at him. He answers Keith’s unasked question anyways. “Since I have better control now, I don't need the trials, I can just use my Spirit Magic to get a Knowing on each of your crew members and the bad ones we take care of.”

“That’s great and all, but I don’t want to risk them fighting back and damaging my ship.” Keith says. 

“Hmm, then we’ll have to be discreet. You any good at stealthiness?” Lance asks, turning his head to look at Keith out of the corner of his eye, and Keith nearly winces at the question. He doesn’t have a stealthy bone in his body. Or rather, he can be stealthy, but killing stealthily is another question entirely. He’s been called hot headed for more than his short temper.

“I’ll take that as a no then.” Lance sighs. “I would contact Ryan, but he’s too far away to travel here by magic like I did, so he’s out.”

Keith pauses as his eyes land on his mother, and an idea hits him. “My First Mate. She can do what needs to be done no problem. She’s already killed two people because they’re idiots. What’s a few more?”

“Okay, but how will she know who to kill and who not to kill?” Lance asks. “That’s why I thought of Ryan, he could read my signals and go from there without me ever having to say a word.”

“Could you maybe leave her a way of knowing? Like a mark or something.” Keith asks and Lance hums, propping his head up on his hand. Then he stands up straight with a brilliant smile on his face. 

“I could freeze the heel of their shoes. It would be discreet, simple, and just obvious enough for Krolia to notice the mark.” Lance says, visibly tempering his volume and excitement so he doesn’t give their plan away. Keith nods in agreement. 

“You go ahead and get started, I’ll inform Krolia.” Keith says, but Lance doesn’t move. 

“Why do you call her by her name if she’s your mother?” Lance asks, and Keith flinches from the bluntness of the question.

“Seriously? You ask that now? When you’re about to mark people for death?” Keith asks. Honestly could he have picked a worse time for that question? Lance pouts, and Keith’s eyes are immediately locked onto that bottom lip. He wants to bite it. Lance’s lips twitch into a smile, eyes creased with amusement. 

“Just answer the question Keith.” Lance says, rolling Keith’s first name off his tongue as if daring Keith to ravish him right there on the quarter deck. Evil. That power Lance holds on him is evil and seductive. 

“Krolia and I aren’t exactly the closest, you know that.” Keith says.

“Probably doesn’t help that you call her by her first name and shut her out.” Lance muses and Keith scowls when he’s knocked out his trance when Lance turns his head away. Evil power.

“We aren’t having this conversation now.” Keith says. Lance tilts his head to side eye him again, this time raking his eyes up and down Keith’s body slowly, setting his skin on fire. 

“Well we can’t have it later, I’m sure we’ll be a little more,” Lance licks his lip, the same lip Keith wants to bite, and practically purrs out the word _“preoccupied.”_

Keith painfully drags his eyes away, swallowing at his now dry throat. Evil, evil, evil power. “Stop tempting me.” He growls, but he feels like he should have chosen better words because with the way Lance’s eyes burn into Keith’s, he’s pretty sure he just poked the bear. 

“Now that,” Lance says, sliding up just close enough to lean forward and whisper into Keith’s ear. Nothing of Lance’s is touching Keith, not even a hair, but Keith still shivers at the mere proximity of Lance to his ear. “Would be such a bore. Tempting you is my greatest priority right now.”

Keith swallows thickly again, clearing his throat to try and regain his composure. “Shouldn’t you be doing something right now?” 

“I _could_ be, if you would just move a little closer.” Lance purrs, and Keith tightens his hands on the wheel to keep from doing just that. Nope, no, he’s not doing this here and now. Not when he’s about to have his own mother slaughter a whole bunch of his terrible crew. 

“You can go now McClain.” Keith dismisses him, but Lance just laughs low in his throat, still right next to his ear and not touching. God why hasn’t he touched Keith yet?

_Wait no, don’t fall for it, it’s a trap._

“As you wish.” Lance whispers, and he leans forward, just enough to plant a simple kiss on Keith’s neck and make him flush at the contact, before he walks away. Just like that. Not even a backwards look. Keith waves down his First Mate, and then cringes inwardly when he thinks of calling her mom. It’s just too _weird._

“Krolia, I have a job for you.” Keith says, and he doesn’t miss the way her lips turn downward slightly before flattening out into her usual neutral expression. He quickly explains in hushed whispers, only now realizing he’s been masking his words by barely moving his lips at all. Has he been doing that this entire time? When did he start masking what he says from lip readers who might be aboard?

“Understood Captain.” Krolia says, inclining her head in a very formal bow, and Keith sucks his bottom lip into his mouth for a moment before deciding to go for it. 

“Mom.” He says, and the word is almost unfamiliar on his tongue. He rolls with it anyways. 

“Yes,” Krolia pauses, before hesitantly adding “son?”

“Be careful.” Keith finally settles on, even though there’s a dam full of words ready to burst out of him. Krolia’s lips twitch upwards, briefly making her face look younger and more innocent. The look is soon gone, replaced by her usual emotionless expression. 

Keith watches from above in fascination as both his mother and Lance do their assigned jobs. 

Lance is all casual, as if out for a morning stroll. He even greets a few people with a friendly smile, leaving them with frosted heels as a mark of death. It hits Keith then that, yes, while Lance is usually non threatening and almost soldier like in his actions regarding his ship and crew, he’s still a pirate. Keith wonders just how many layers of Lance’s personality are there for Keith to uncover. 

_Not_ that he wants to of course, they’re just fucking around. Blowing off steam. No strings attached. 

_Right?_

On the other hand, while Lance is casual and friendly, Krolia is deadly, silent, fast. She’s barely a shadow passing by. Her path is a slower one, but it still follows Lance’s ice magic wherever he leaves the mark of death. Somehow she always manages to snatch her target out of Keith’s line of sight, never alerting others to what was going on. Knowing his mother, she could have avoided his line of sight for one of two reasons. 

Either she doesn’t want Keith to give her position away by following along with his eyes. 

Or she doesn’t want her only child to witness her mercilessly slaughter people. 

Keith votes the former. Soon enough the top deck is nearly vacant, no one the wiser to the sudden change of the thickness of the crowd. He sees four, no make that five people, left on the top deck alive, none of them bearing Lance’s tell tale mark of death. It’s strange to consider the fact that it was Lance who suggested mass assassination, even stranger than the fact that a few blunt words out of Lance’s mouth made him say the one thing to Krolia he has never dreamed of saying. 

It makes him wonder once more why she chose to go on the run from the Empire as a spy, over her own child. Her own husband. Was it really so hard to stay? Was it really necessary that she left them both behind? And for what? A few measly strikes against the Emperor, ones that vaguely irritate rather than truly alarm him? 

And Keith has met the Blades of Marmora, has passed their tests, and he’ll be the first to say they aren’t a very fun group of people. 

Serious and stoic and always looking like they’ve been at war for centuries with no end in sight, even though the resistance group has only been around since Keith was three. That’s not a lot of time to get organized and powerful, it’s not a lot of time for much change of anything either. Zarkon still rules with an iron fist. His son still whores around and kills anyone who dares to look him in the eye. His wife still runs her crazy experiments. The country still holds Arena matches daily. 

So yeah, they haven’t done much changing since they vowed to do so sixteen years ago. 

But still, it surprises Keith how skilled the Marmora can be in combat. Like, look at his own mother for instance. She’s barely a shadow in the wind as she slaughters Keith’s crew on his orders. No movement out of place, no breath unplanned, no strike missing it’s target. It’s a wonderfully cruel thing to behold. 

“What’s got your face all screwed up and twisted like that Kogane?” Lance says, magically reappearing at Keith’s side again. Was he really so zoned out he missed Lance coming back to the surface of his ship?

“Just thinking.” Keith says. He sees the wicked grin spread across Lance’s face and rolls his eyes, already knowing exactly what he’s going to say. 

“About me?” Lance asks innocently. “Truly I’m flattered.”

“No, not about you, dumbass. Not everything revolves around you you know.” Keith says with a creeping smile on his face. Lance, as expected, pouts and sighs dramatically. 

“Damn, and I was hoping to recreate whatever dirty thoughts were going through your head.” 

“Is sex all you think about?” Keith scoffs. 

“Lately? If it’s sex with you it’s all I think about.” Lance bluntly responds, not even bothering with a cat-like smile or lustful smirk. The plainness of the statement is what makes Keith’s ears burn hot, not that Lance is thinking about sex with him all the time. Definitely not. “So, we should get you a better crew.”

_Well that subject changed quickly._

“We?” He asks incredulously. Lance rolls his eyes with a smile. 

“Yes we idiot, I have to screen your new applicants in order to make sure you have a decent crew. Duh.” Lance sighs, looking over the now deserted ship as Krolia walks back on deck, casually wiping off her blade with a bloody rag. The crew remaining start to notice that the once bustling and loud crew is ominously quiet. 

Alright then, time to get to work. 

Keith lets out a loud whistle, leaving Lance to catch the wheel as he calls his crew. He waits patiently as his confused and frankly, scared crew begin to gather around their captain for explanations. Lance lets out a whistle to let him know when the entire crew is gathered. 

“Alright! I’m sure some of you have noticed the sudden decrease in the crew.” Keith starts, and the men before him shuffle on their feet. “Count yourselves lucky! Everyone else is dead because they were not worthy to be counted among my men. You passed the test, but don’t even think this means you have a chance to become idle and lazy and disrespectful like the others.”

Keith paces through the crowd, hands held behind his back, his sword belt twisted so the hilt of his right sword is at the small of his back, right beneath his hand. Ready to be drawn and used at his discretion. One wrong move and these men will meet the sea like the others. Krolia stands before the group with a glare, keeping the men’s eyes shifting between eyeing her and following him, leaving them off balance and on edge. 

They can’t decide the bigger threat, and that’s just how Keith likes it.

“This is my ship, and I will not tolerate being treated like some kid. If you do your job and follow my first mate’s, my own or that man’s orders, I will happily treat you like family.” Keith says, adding Lance as an authority at the last second, catching the look of surprise in the Serpent’s eyes when he points him out. 

“Are we understood?” Keith demands as he comes back to the front of the crew, a measly half dozen men. They share glances amongst each other, and Keith’s hand grips the sword at his back. Luckily he doesn’t need to as a raucous cry of his name floods the deck. Keith almost smiles at the enthusiasm of the men aboard. 

Time for a speech. Gotta inspire these bilge rats somehow. 

“Alrighty then men! Being on my crew will not be easy! We will face hardship and we will face death! Our enemy?” Keith pauses with a scowl. He hops up onto the balustrade of the boat, hanging loosely onto the ropes to steady his feet as he calls out to his crew. They watch him with feverish excitement. “The Emperor of Daibazal! Our mission is to strike his most prized of possessions, the Arenas! With the strike we declare our freedom from the Empire, and claim the open seas as our master!”

The crew give another loud cry, much louder than the first, with wild eyes. 

“We are pirates! We take what we want! We do what we want! We give no quarter and take no orders! As of today we are our own men, and when the rest of the positions on my ship are filled, we celebrate!” Keith yells, drawing his sword and raising it high, his crew following suit. Suddenly that familiar heaviness of a certain pair of stormy blue eyes falls heavy on his neck, heating his body and making his heart pump so loud he barely hears himself give a speech. “The next few days will be harsh! But we are pirates, and we don’t back down! Are you with me!?”

“Yeah!” The crowd screams out, and Keith sheaths his sword. 

“Now back to work pirates, and when the ship is ready for sailing once more, drinks will be on me!” Keith calls out and with a loud cry of excitement, and suddenly one of the crew takes charge, ordering the men back to work. It makes his eyebrow twitch, unsure if he’s trying to undermine his First Mate, or not. The man is tall and wiry, with a short beard and a scar over his left eye. He’ll need to consider him closely. 

Actually maybe he’ll ask Lance about him. 

He hops down from his place on the balustrade, stepping up to his mother and giving her orders to take the wheel and keep an eye on the wiry man, but to not interfere with the crew. He wants to see if he’s the type to take charge, and if so, then either he’s a threat, or an asset. She nods her head dutifully as he mutters her orders into her ear, taking the wheel and sending Lance down the quarter deck to Keith. 

He doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth to speak before Lance is yanking him close to growl in his ear. 

“Seeing you take charge and inspire your crew like that was hot Keith. Maybe you can order me around like that later.” Lance whispers into his ear, sending a shot of arousal down Keith’s spine as Lance bites at the skin behind his ear, before pulling away with a perfect poker face. Like he didn’t just tell Keith to order him around the bedroom. “So, I need to advise the others to carry on without me, and we’ll meet up with them later. I’ll be back once my affairs are in order.”

_How the fuck does he do that so easily?_

Keith clears his throat and wills away the flush on his skin to save face before his new crew. “Right, don’t take too long. We’ll be changing course immediately once I locate the nearest port big enough to get a good number of new recruits.”

Lance scoffs and his lips lift in a wicked half smile. “You wouldn’t dare leave me behind.” Keith smiles back just the same, leaning forward just slightly, getting a brief whiff of the saltiness and woodsy scent Lance carries. 

“Try me McClain.” Keith says and turns on his heel, walking away and shifting his sword belt back in place. He hears McClain laugh heartily and he turns just in time to catch the two fingered salute as he stands on top of the balustrade. 

Lance lets go of the rope, crossing his arms over his chest in an x, allowing his body to tilt backwards to the water. Keith hears the splash, but for a moment, time seems suspended, and suddenly he’s nearly stumbling from his ship rocking with the force of a giant ice and water made serpent rising from the sea, making his crew pause to watch in awe all over again. This time he gets a briefly better look at it then before. 

The body is fluid water with plates of ice on the exterior like scattered scales, the neck the same way with smaller plates of ice. The head is where the beauty of Lance’s magic is represented. The head is only a fluid blob, but the features of a serpent are made of ice. The eyes, the almost arrow shaped forehead, the entire muzzle. The most artful form of ice is the crown, and it is a crown. Two sharp pieces of ice rise from the top of the head maybe five feet tall, perhaps bigger, it’s hard to tell, and rise in a curve to form an open circle. The sharp tips of the curved ice point toward each other, not touching but forming a clear crown. 

It’s beautiful to behold. 

Lance, like before, is encased in the Serpent’s head, just behind the plate of ice making the forehead, probably for protection from attack. Lance looks almost asleep in the center, eyes closed in the fifty foot tall magic made serpent, body limp. Keith salutes him, and the Serpent’s head lowers like Lance saw the salute with his eyes closed, and then he turns around and dives beneath the sea surface, sending his ship rocking again. 

Keith shakes his head with a smile as his ship rebalances out and he goes to his war room to plan their course. 

He was, obviously, lying, he would never purposely leave Lance behind, but the teasing is just too hard to resist.


	49. Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew give Lance a gift upon departure to the Dragon's Fire.

Lance lands on his ship in a walking landing, his serpent retreating and disbanding into the sea behind him gently. He almost can’t wait to return to Kogane’s side, if only to see what that man can do with that commanding voice in a more personal context. The thought of it makes Lance shiver with anticipation. While he’s away from his ship he’s taking full advantage of what Kogane has to offer. For the moment though he needs to settle things with his ships. First, Hunk and Pidge. 

Hunk walks towards him already, Rolo manning the wheel while his girl mans the crow’s nest. 

“It’s good to see you back Lance.” Hunk says with relief releasing the crinkling in his eyes. Lance smiles and grasps Hunk’s forearm in greeting, happy that he finally taught Hunk the official handshake among his captains and their first mates. To Lance, it means more than a handshake, it means Hunk’s finally, at long last, counted among his most trusted. 

“It’s good to be back.” Lance says, only half telling the truth. He’s always happy to be on his ship, but he’s practically starving to have his way with Kogane in private. And unfortunately, he gets no privacy with Hunk around. 

“What did Keith need you for?” Hunk asks as Lance guides the way to his quarters so he can pack a few things for his time on Kogane’s ship. 

“His crew were a bunch of freeloaders, so we had them killed, leaving only the worthy behind. As a result, he needs more crewmen, preferably ones he can trust, which is why he needs me there. He’s already changing courses to make port and get the crew.” Lance explains. “I need to be there to make sure he finds a trustworthy crew.”

“You're going to put an entirely new crew through trials? That’ll take months!” Hunk exclaims as Lance opens his quarters doors. 

“I don’t think I need to.” Lance says, shutting the door behind Hunk as he passes. He’s about to step away when there’s a knock, and even without his spirit magic he knows it’s Pidge. Lance let’s him in, Pidge being male the past few days. Pidge sweeps in silently and practically collapses on his back on Lance’s bed. 

“What’s going on?” Pidge asks as he stretches his arms and gets comfortable. Lance rolls his eyes and shuts the door again. He moves to his empty travel pack to start packing for their separation. 

Oh. Pidge won’t take that well. 

“Kogane needs my assistance gathering an entirely new crew after we had the majority of his previous ones killed. I want you guys and the others to stay your course, and we’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.” Lance explains. 

“What? You’re leaving me behind?” Pidge demands. “Hunk I understand, he has to steer the ship, but I’m your protege!”

Lance sighs and turns to him. “Exactly, which is while Hunk is acting Captain, you will be acting First Mate. I want him to guide you a little in the ways of being a pirate Captain, which is hard for me to do since I’ve been so busy. When things slow down I’ll pick up your training on my own again. But for now, staying is what’s best for your future.” 

“That’s bollocks!” Pidge cries and Lance’s lips twitch with the Altean curse word, one not as popular as it’s synonym, bullshit, these days. “I can learn from you just fine! Why can’t I go with you?” 

Lance goes to answer but then he pauses as he reconsiders something he’s said twice and hasn’t been brought up yet. “Hold that thought, why haven’t either of you become concerned over the fact that I said Kogane and I had the majority of his crew killed?” 

Pidge shrugs. “We’re pirates, killing is kind of in the job description.”

Lance doesn’t like how she brushed off his ruthlessness like that. Makes him question if she has any morals at all. He’ll have to see about that later. “Whatever. To answer your question, I promised to be honest from now on right?” 

“Yes?” Hunk says, sounding more like he’s asking a question then answering one. 

“Then to be blunt, I want to get away from you both so I can fuck Kogane in peace.” Lance says as he turns back to packing for the next two weeks, give or take. He hears a choking sound from Hunk before Pidge bursts into cackles. Not laughter, cackles. 

“Okay, what?” Pidge asks between cackles. “You want to what?”

“I want to fuck Kogane and be fucked by Kogane.” Lance says again, snapping his pack closed as he finishes. “Simple as that. And Hunk had already interrupted a handful of times now.” 

“I’ve done what!?” Hunk cries, voice breaking. Lance glances over to witness Hunk’s mortification for himself. Poor guy, his face is beat red, hardly covered by the hands over his cheeks. Lance snickers to himself as he straightens up. 

“Don’t act innocent Hunk, I know exactly what you and Shay get up to while I’m busy with the royals.” Lance says, then taps his temple with a smirk. “You can’t fool me brother.”

Hunk makes a broken sound and then immediately flees the room. Pidge continues cackling with glee as he leaves the room, and Lance takes that as him accepting being left behind. Bag now packed he prepares to inform the rest of his Captains of the slight deviation in the plans.

Soon enough the orders are sent out and Lance grabs his bag, already summoning his Serpent from the sea to prepare to leave. 

“Captain hold on!” Rolo calls, running up to where Lance has one foot on his balustrade to connect with his magic serpent. He raises an eyebrow as Rolo hands him a small package, something wrapped in plain brown wrapping paper and tied off with a piece of twine. He goes to open it, but Rolo stops him. “Wait until you’re back on the Dragon’s Fire, this is a gift from the entire crew. An apology if you will, for doubting you even for a second.”

Lance’s heartstrings are sufficiently pulled and he smiles back at his crew who are sending him off with a quick salute. 

“Thanks, I don’t know what it is, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” Lance says sincerely. Rolo smirks at him. 

“Trust me, you’ll love it.” Rolo says, not explaining a damned thing and walking away. At Rolo’s dismissal of Lance, the rest of the crew get back to work. Lance takes it as his cue to head on his way and he steps onto the balustrade fully, crossing his arms into an x and falling head first into the water. His serpent swallows him up, almost literally since Lance fell into the open mouth of his serpent’s ice muzzle, and he settles into his magic with eyes closed. 

Like his Ice Rifle, Lance’s Serpent is another near impossible spell to control and create. 

The Serpent itself is simple, just a creative design with both water and ice magic at the same time, although for some mages controlling both sides of the element at the same time is difficult. The real _impossible_ part of the spell is how Lance controls it. He can’t use his human eyes because his human eyes take away a central focus on the spell, causing it to fall apart every time. Lance skirted this issue by using his magic to see. 

By expanding his magic out from the serpent, without controlling actual ice or water, he can use it to detect what’s around him. Sort of like how cave fish see. They’re blind, because they don’t need eyes if there’s no light to see by, so they use the suction and movement of water as they move as a way of detecting nearby obstacles. Rocks, coral, other fish. Another example might be echolocation, although Lance doesn’t use sound to navigate. 

Lance happily guides his serpent through the water in the direction of Kogane’s last location, eager to reach the ship and open his gift already. 

He can feel the rough brown paper in his hands, protected from water damage by the bubble of air Lance surrounds himself with to breath. It’s not a permanent way of breathing in the water, at some point the limited oxygen would run out, but he fixes this by occasionally surging over the surface and allowing new air in. Thanks to his magic, he’s stepping onto Kogane’s top deck in mere minutes and opening his eyes. 

Kogane stands at the wheel, sending Lance a small smile in his direction but not moving to greet him since his crew is already stretched thin enough for him to take away his first mate to man the wheel. That’s okay, he needs to get his lodgings sorted out anyways, and he can go up to Kogane to do that. Lance shakes out the tiredness seeping into his bones from using a powerful spell like the Serpent twice in one day as he makes his way up the quarter deck. 

“Welcome back McClain.” Kogane greets when Lance gets close enough. He leans heavily on the banister, trying to seem casual and not like he’s about to fall asleep from his display of magic. 

“Good to be back. Mind telling me which room I’ll be in for my stay or should I just join you in yours?” Lance teases, and Kogane rolls his eyes. Although, this time, instead of seeing those ears turn red beneath that soft black hair, Kogane smirks back at him with violet eyes. Oh Lance could get lost in those eyes. 

“If you wanted to share my bed McClain, all you had to do was say so.” Kogane says, and Lance immediately perks up at the suggestion of sharing a bed. Kogane had slept on the floor the entire time he was on the Serpent Lion, they never shared his bed. “We can paint each other’s nails, and tell scary stories and I can make us smores.” 

Lance pouts at Kogane’s teasing. “So is that a no to sharing a bed?”

Kogane laughs at him. “Not while my mother is aboard, no.” _Dammit._

“I can fix that.” Lance says with dark humor in his tone, and Kogane just rolls his eyes again, checking his compass and easing the wheel a little to Lance’s right. 

“No thank you, I have enough issues to deal with without adding making my mother disappear so I can sleep with someone on top of it.” Kogane says, and Lance sighs. 

“Does that mean we won’t get to have sex?” 

“Seriously is sex all you think about?” Kogane asks again, but this time his smile is bright and it makes warm feelings swirl in Lance’s chest. Ones he pushes away because no, he just wants to fuck Kogane and get it out of his system. He doesn’t _like_ Kogane, he justs wants to fuck him. Just get him out of Lance’s system and move on. 

“Well, fine. I guess I can find someone on your crew to work off a little steam with then.” Lance suggests, and he wants to cackle when that bright smile drops into a scowl and those violet eyes lock on him again, darkening to black quickly.

“Not happening.” Kogane growls. If Lance didn’t know any better he would say that was possessiveness and jealousy in Kogane’s tone. Lance smiles as innocently as he can manage as he leans in close to Kogane’s ear. 

“Then I’ll be waiting in your room, Captain.” Lance whispers, and a low groan escapes Kogane’s throat. 

“You’re evil.” Kogane hisses. Lance laughs as he picks his bag back up off the floor where he had set it and moves to make himself at home in Kogane’s room. “McClain.” Lance turns mid step down the stairs, his hand moving to catch whatever was thrown at him before he even registers the key in his hand. Kogane smirks at him. “The key to my quarters.”

Lance grins and practically skips his way to the Captain’s quarters. 

Kogane’s room is much bigger than Lance’s but only because it’s so bare. There’s nothing personal in the room at first glance. Bare walls, bare desk, bare floor. The only thing personalized is the bed, which is big enough to fit two people comfortably, with a pair of dark red sheets and a lighter red comforter, with matching pillow cases. 

Wow, the two of them really do take their associated colors to the extremes.

Lance sets his bag down on the desk, and has a seat in the frankly uncomfortable chair. Pulling the gift out of his bag he hurriedly unties the twine and undoes the brown paper, eyes widening with surprise when he sees what the gift was. It’s a plain, but nicely crafted wooden box with a lock, the key taped to the lid. He opens the box to find out what’s inside and then nearly drops it in mortification. The note on top says _‘enjoy your gift Captain’_ with a winky face. 

Inside the box are three things. 

A bottle of lube, a stack of condoms, and strangely enough, a journal. He sets the lube and condoms aside, using his free hand to fan away the heated feeling in his cheeks. The journal is a simple leather bound journal, a strip of leather connected to the spine to tie it closed. On the front is the symbol of Lance’s ship, which flies on the flag. A lion lunging out of a curled up Serpent to represent an ouroboros. He unties the leather strip and opens it up to find another note. 

_‘This is your real gift Captain, we were just teasing with the others. We hope you like it. Since we always see you writing in that old journal of yours, we figured you would like a new one. -Rolo and the Crew’_

Lance smiles brightly at the gift, carefully tucking the journal and the box into his bag, rolling his eyes as he does so with the lube and condoms as well. As if Lance would come on the Dragon’s Fire unprepared, but he could always use a little backup, you know, just in case. He looks around the room as he tries to figure out what to write in his new journal, since his old one is for the day to day. He could always save it for another time, for when his mother’s journal gets too full. 

Or he could record all of his visions in it. 

Now there’s an idea. He can keep a record of every vision he has from now on, but the only issue is the chance of someone else reading it. He can’t allow another person other than himself or other seers to know the future, the result could be catastrophic. What if someone read a vision about themselves and tried to change it, only to make things worse in the long run? If he saw his friends’ deaths, and they read the vision entry about their own deaths, what would that do to a person? What damage would it cause? It already sucks enough seeing the future himself, he wouldn’t want to put that burden of knowledge on anyone else, friend or foe alike. 

Maybe, once he’s back home, back on his ship, maybe by then Pidge might have some answers for that strange language, and he can teach himself the language to code his journals so only he can read them. 

He wishes it was easy for him to understand his own magic. 

Don’t get him wrong, Lance has learned a lot since putting a label on his Knowings. Most of that knowledge comes from Pidge, Kogane, Hunk and Adam. Or well, mainly Pidge and Kogane. He knows that, accompanied with touch, someone else can ask him specifically targeted questions to understand what’s happening while he’s mid vision. He knows that sometimes his visions are blurry and come in multiples, and sometimes they’re clear and singular. The theory is that the blurry and multiple visions are changeable, visions of circumstance and decisions, while the clear and singular ones are set in stone. 

But that’s a theory, not fact. Pidge’s theory actually.

He knows he doesn’t always have to have full visions, sometimes he just gets really strong feelings in his gut his crew and captains long since labeled _Knowings._ Lance knows, the one time he tried it, that when he puts a knowing into words he ends up speaking a foreign language. One he’s never learned, but one he knows as fluently as Common or Terran. What else does he know?

Roya told him that detailed and heavy visions must be paid a price. 

He doesn’t know how deep he must get into a vision to be forced to pay the price though, or what price specifically must be paid. Roya paid with her eyes and her hand. Is the price always bodily? Another thing. What happens if he has a vision mid fight against someone? Will he always be paralyzed in place when it starts? Is there a way to control the vision and his body at the same time?

Gods his head hurts.

Lance decides not to dwell on his questions anymore. He’s going to spend time with Kogane, maybe get laid a few times, help him build a new crew, and then it’s back to his busy life as a pirate captain. Oh the joys of being a leader. Lance gets up from the chair, bending backwards to pop his back, before deciding to head back on deck and find something to do. 

Maybe he’ll go fluster Kogane some more, that sounds fun.


	50. Sleepy Captains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally make it to port and get some rest.

Keith can’t take much more of this. 

Lance has been persistently driving him mad, whispering dirty things in his ear, giving Keith just a tad bit of touch to accentuate his words, before moving away and carrying on like nothing happened. He’s been doing it for three days. And Keith hasn’t been able to act on his growing sexual frustration, because with less than a quarter of the crew number he needs to have to make his ship function properly, he’s been having to pick up more and more slack. Even Lance has started picking up the slack. 

During the day, Lance teases him as he does odd work around the ship, not even taking advantage of the position of authority Keith granted him and just happily working alongside his crew without giving orders or anything. He leaves the ordering to Keith and his mother, which is another reason he can’t act on his desires. He and his mother have started patching things up a little more the past few days, and while it’s still rocky, they’re both trying. 

During the night?

After a few short hours of sleep, Lance is awake, and using his magic serpent to push the ship faster in the night. He only does it in short spurts, maybe thirty minutes at a time max, but it does put them ahead of schedule to be in port by an entire day. And then Lance passes out on his bed right before Keith wakes up to take over command of his ship again. 

Keith is exhausted. His mother is exhausted. Lance is exhausted. The crew is exhausted. 

But there’s nothing Keith can do about it, but try to keep spirits high as their bodies run low. It’s like pulling teeth. Most of his crew have begun snapping at each other, picking fights over the smallest of things. That withholding his calm and collected mother, and Lance. Keith doesn’t count himself, because he’s riding a razor’s edge right now himself. 

Honestly? Without Lance, every last person on this ship, maybe even including Keith’s own mother, would be dead. Burnt to a crisp by Keith’s pent up fire magic. 

Lance is always going around with a smile on his face, cheer in his voice and a bounce in his step, no matter the time of day. Doesn’t matter how tired Lance is, or how often he yawns in the middle of his words. He always, always, has a smile on his face. The one good thing about the hard few days?

Middle of the night chats. 

When Lance does come back to bed after pushing the ship along with his magic, just before Keith has to get up, they talk a while. And Lance is vulnerable. And cuddly. And _fucking adorable._ It hasn’t been uncommon for Lance to fall asleep in Keith’s arms, lulled to unconsciousness by Keith’s voice. And as sexually pent up as Keith is right now, he won’t give up those precious moments in the dark. 

Ever.

Keith does however, give up any pretense of disinterest as he finally steers the ship into port, docking it down the line and out of the way. Surely there’s a name for where they’re at, but Keith is just too damn tired to care. His crew cheer in relief when they drop anchor and raise sails. Keith lets the wheel go, flexing his hands when they almost refuse to loosen their grip. 

“Alright boys! And Krolia. Gather round.” Keith calls, gathering his small crew who has grown on him as more than subordinates, as friends. He smiles loosely at them, so tired he almost doesn’t want to blink. “Good job, I know this was rough, but we did it. And as reward I’m grounding you all to your beds for a full night’s rest before you can hit the town. We’ll take turns standing watch on deck, but I’ll take the first shift myself, so get some rest everyone. You’ve earned it.”

Relieved smiles file across his crewman as they all mumble out their goodnights. 

He drags a chair slowly up to his warning bell, conveniently located beside his quarter’s door. Kind of like Lance’s actually. Speaking of the devil. Lance plops onto the floor beside him, leaning against Keith’s legs, dropping his head on Keith’s thigh with a sigh. 

“I’ll stay up with you.” Lance mumbles, and Keith feels the rumbles of his voice in the meat of his thigh where Lance’s face is buried. “Being cheerful is exhausting, but worth it.”

Keith barely manages to huff out a breath of a laugh, laying his head on the stairs to the quarter deck, peeling his eyes open when they threaten to close. “Didn’t have to do that you know.”

“Did too, they would have started killing each other if I didn’t distract them with my cheerful charms.” Lance says, turning his face to nose into Keith’s thigh. A futile shot of arousal shoots up his spine at the contact, but with how tired he is, he doesn’t even get the chance to push it down on his own terms. 

“Thanks for staying.” Keith mumbles. His eyes are so heavy, a long yawn breaking past his lips. He feels Lance yawn against his thigh right after. 

“Take a cat nap, I’ll wake you when Krolia takes over watch.” Lance says, tapping his ankle, probably too tired to lift his arms any higher. Keith tries to protest, but his yawn accepts the offer for him. 

“I swear to the gods, McClain, when I’m well rested, I’m bending you over my desk and taking what I want.” Keith growls weakly. Lance laughs silently against his thigh. 

“That’s not very threatening Kogane. When you can manage to say that without yawning then i’ll take you seriously. Although you are sorely mistaken about one thing, Dragon.” Lance says, and when Keith makes a questioning hum he feels Lance’s head shift and opens his eyes to gaze into nearly glossy blue ones. “I’m the one taking, not you.” Keith snorts, moving one arm out of the comfortable crossed position they were in to pat Lance’s head.

“Believe it when I see it.”

“More like when you beg for it.” Lance says, but there’s no flirtatious bite to it. They’re both too tired to flirt properly, and that’s a crying shame. Keith sighs, eyes closing against his will, unwilling to open. 

It’s almost like he blinked when Lance nudges him awake. 

Krolia is only just stepping on the top deck, and she nods at them both, flopping onto a stack of crates to lay down. Huh. Her and Lance must get along well, they both put on brave faces for the crew and then immediately drop the act when witnesses aren’t around. Lance nudges his ankle, and Keith looks down from his tired mother to his tired-

Rival? Lover? What the hell are they?

 _You know what? I don’t care, it’s cuddle time._ Keith thinks adamantly to himself as he forces himself out of the chair, giving a helping hand to Lance. Lance, who practically lays on top of him as they move the ten steps from Keith’s door to his bed. While walking. It doesn’t make the trek any easier on either of them, but Keith doesn’t mind lugging Lance’s extra weight behind him. They practically collapse on the bed, and Keith manages to make himself wake up enough to try and dress down for bed. 

“McClain, come on we need to get- McClain?” Keith asks, sitting up and looking down at Lance. He’s already snoring lightly, eyes closed, arms splayed out on the bed while his long legs hang off the side from where he fell into the bedding. Keith smiles down at him, yawns and climbs off the bed to get undressed. He knows better than to sleep with his swords still hooked to his waist, his preferred form of carry when he’s not expecting any sort of use of the blades. Otherwise, he’d be struggling to get the back sheathes off in this state. 

Keith quickly strips down to nothing but a loose peasant shirt, blue, because it’s Lance’s color and it’s the best way Keith knows to drive Lance crazy, and a pair of boxers. He even takes off his favorite pair of leather gloves, which he didn’t use to do, but Lance always demands he remove them while asleep because it’s ‘not healthy for his hands’ or whatever. Keith takes his hair out of the leather strip, running a hand through his hair as he turns to an unconscious Lance. 

Lance is adorable when he’s asleep, not so guarded, not so worried. 

Keith’s lips twitch, but it’s as far as they go, not willing to move any unnecessary muscle in his sleep deprivation. He slowly and gently tugs off Lance’s boots and socks, after, of course, removing the deadly dagger and pistol stuffed down them. Then he works Lance’s pants off, not willing to hear Lance whine about sleeping in pants again. His coat is the hardest part, since he has to lift Lance off the bed without waking him. Keith ends up jostling too much, but instead of waking up, Lance just curls forward to lean on Keith while he slips off the coat and vest, leaving only his red peasant shirt. Lance’s form of retaliation against the blue. 

Oh if Shiro could see him right now, he would die of laughter.

Loner Keith, badass Keith, I-can-do-things-on-my-own Keith, carefully undressing his used to be enemy slash rival so that the Serpent isn’t so uncomfortable while he sleeps. Luckily for Keith, that’s all he has to worry about, since Lance never put his sword belt on after the first few hours working on the ship. Just the dagger and pistol. 

It goes to show how trustworthy his six (Or was it seven? Five? How many does he have again? Oh whatever he’ll remember in the morning.) crewmen truly are. 

After properly readying Lance for bed (forgoing the rather extensive facial care routine he does every night, he’s not about to try any of that tonight. Or ever) he scoots Lance full onto the bed so that his head hits the pillow and he’s tucked under the blanket. A blanket, of which, Keith never used to use because he gets too hot at night. 

But not with Lance around. 

They’ve seem to have struck the perfect balance. Lance is always cold, so he leeches Keith’s body heat away, while Keith is always too hot so he uses Lance like an ice bucket. He’s rarely ever that cool, and Lance makes it come so easily. Keith brushes a strand of hair out of Lance’s face, those usually short trimmed locks getting long and starting to curl, and then climbs into bed with Lance. Right where he never wishes to leave, cuddling with Lance until he falls asleep. 

Damn, Keith is smitten isn’t he?

Shiro is going to have a fucking _field day_ when he figures it out.


	51. Blurred Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith get 'interrupted' by a vision.

Lance doesn’t want to wake up. 

He’s warm, and comfy, and he just wants to keep sleeping. Keith lays beneath him, not beside him, Lance half sprawled on his chest. He doesn’t freak out like he did that first night, before he woke up to push the ship along with his magic serpent. Cuddling with the Dragon was not on the priority list. _Screwing_ the Dragon was, but not cuddling and sleepy talks, and falling asleep to that sleepy voice of his. But now he craves the warmth Keith gives him, and as embarrassed as he may get, Lance happily falls into that warmth at night.

Going back to his ship now will be _hell._

His bed already has a hundred blankets on it. Well. Actually it’s more like five thick comforters, but the thought is there. Sleeping for so many nights without suffering that detestable chill in his bones means going back to it will suck even worse than when he was used to it. But for now, Lance sighs and scoots closer, nuzzling his, usually freezing, nose up against Keith’s neck. 

Keith tightens his grip on Lance’s waist in his sleep, and Lance opens his eyes to look up the face of the man holding him.

This is another thing he’ll miss. Waking up and getting a chance to stare at Keith. The curve of his lips. The wildness of his dark, almost midnight black hair framing such pale skin. Keith’s eyebrows twitch in his sleep, something Lance loves watching. Something he’s _not supposed to_ love watching. 

All Lance wanted was a couple of flings, to taste but not indulge. 

He wanted Keith to bend him over, he wanted to bend Keith over, he wanted them to fuck themselves mad across his ship. But somehow Lance has allowed himself to act as if the two of them are courting. Teasing touches, heated whispers, staring at Keith all day. It’s why he chose to put himself to work, so he had a reason to _not_ constantly stare at the handsomeness of his long time rival. To keep himself preoccupied so he doesn’t jump Keith’s bones where everyone can watch. 

Lance may be a lot of things, but smitten he is _not._

He does not stare at Keith with anything other than lust. He does not _stare_ at all. He just… glances, often. That’s all. He doesn’t want Keith to hold him close like he’s doing right now. He doesn’t want to bask in the warmth and the gentle touches. He doesn’t _want_ to feel like his chest is going to explode everytime he looks at Keith’s violet-

Wait. 

When did he start thinking of Keith as Keith? Keith isn’t Keith, Keith is Kogane. He is the Dragon, Lance’s rival, his enemy. He is not _Keith,_ he is Kogane. Always will be. Never anything more than a fuck buddy (even though they STILL haven’t gotten a chance to even do that yet). So why is he even _thinking_ of Keith as Keith when he’s only supposed to call Keith Keith when they’re having sexy fun times!

What? Lance is confused now.

“Stop thinking, I can hear your brain from here.” Keith grumbles, and (dammit he did it again!) Lance squeaks, actually squeaks. Like he’s a fucking rat. Lance is not a rat, he is a pirate and pirates do _not_ squeak. Lance clears his throat so he can respond. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Lance says, and wow, that came off more pouty than demanding. Gods what is wrong with him!

Lance glances upwards to see Keith’s eyes closed still, but his lips are tilted upwards in a dangerous smirk. He watches as Keith opens his eyes, looking far too awake for having just woken up, and he looks down at Lance with nearly black eyes. “I thought you wanted me to tell you what to do?”

Lance leans back in confusion. “I never said that?” That came out a question. Why is it everything he says doesn’t come out the way he wants them to. Stupid Keith. (Gah! It’s Kogane dammit, not Keith!)

Keith hums and sits up quickly, forcing Lance on his back since he’s too groggy to react in time. In seconds, if even that, Keith is on top of him, straddling Lance’s hips and smirking down at him as he patiently blows a hair out of his face. “I seem to recall you saying something like, oh how did you say it.” Keith says, pretending to think, and Lance knows he’s pretending because for some reason he recognizes that expression as pretending-to-think face. “Oh yeah. Something like ‘Maybe you can order me around like that later’ was it not?”

He got Lance there; he did, in fact, say that. 

Didn’t expect it to be used against him though. Lance’s face burns hot, and he pouts and turns away, not willing to comment. Keith leans down as he laughs underneath his breath, getting so close his cheek brushes Lance’s when he goes to whisper in Lance’s ear. That slight touch, even though it’s not a sexual or even possibly intentional touch, sends fire skidding down Lance’s spine. Lance shivers when that silky smooth voice floods his senses. 

“I believe I made you a promise last night Lance. While it’s not my desk, the bed will work just fine.” Keith ends the sentence with a growl. Lance swallows his own tongue when it tries to betray him by begging Keith to do just that. Instead he musters up enough confidence and energy to use Keith’s body weight against him and slam him down into the sheets on his back, Lance taking the moment of disorientation to straddle Keith’s hips.

“And I believe I challenged you about that Kogane.” Lance says with a smirk. His smirk drops when he feels the feeling of a vision coiling around in his stomach. _No, not now, I’m about to get a taste of the Dragon, go away!_

“McClain?” Keith says worryingly, sitting up and forgoing the banter. Lance wonders what look is on his face as he clenches his fists in the blanket beneath Keith, grinding his teeth to stave off the vision. He doesn’t want to see it, he wants to pick up where he left off with Keith! “McClain what’s wrong? What just happened? Talk to me!”

“My magic wants me to have a vision and I want to continue what we were doing.” Lance grinds out, nearly gagging as the feeling pushes forward just as Lance pushes it down, making his stomach lurch. 

“McClain, don’t force it down, we don’t know what doing that will do to you.” Keith says with worry lacing his voice, fully sitting up now, Lance in his lap. His eyebrows are scrunched together, rough hands settling on his shoulders. 

“I know it fucking sucks.” Lance grinds out as he feels another wave of nausea from trying to keep it at bay.

“Do you want me to ask you questions while you’re in the vision?” Keith asks, a strange look on his face. “Cause I just realized, what if us knowing about the vision messes things up?” 

Do they just think with the same damn brain or something? Lance literally asked himself the same question a few days ago! “I thought the same thing, but it’s up to you.”

“Alright, I got you, you can let the vision happ-” Keith starts to say and while Lance was looking into those violet eyes, Keith doesn’t even finish his sentence before Lance is gone. He failed to hold back his vision, which actually answers half of one question he’s had. He can’t push away the visions without making himself sick. 

The vision Lance falls into is blurred, but not the same way as usual. Usually the blurry visions are just the details he needs to see in a sea of blurred darkness. This one, it’s more like Lance is drugged. And it is Lance, he doesn’t know why he knows he’s in a vision or how he knows he’s himself, he just does. The scenery around him isn’t black like his other visions, he can make out objects around him. Trees, a path ahead of him, water in the distance. But that’s about it. 

Lance stumbles forward on the path, and then his attention is focused. 

_He sees blurred trees, and water in the distance. He’s stumbling forward. He is Lance McClain and he is alone._

It takes a moment before he realizes Keith must be asking him a few questions, because everytime his attention is forced to focus, he recognizes the things he focuses on as answers to straightforward questions. What do you see? What are you doing? Who are you? Is there anyone else with you?

Lance stumbles hard, hitting his knees, the breath knocked out of him as his chest starts burning, but strangely. Like a phantom pain. His arrow scar hasn’t bothered him in a while, maybe it’s that?

Lance gets to his feet and yells out, calling for help. 

It’s to Lance’s surprise that someone answers. “Oh dear.” A voice says, one that sounds familiar in a strange way, like he knows the voice but he has no memory of ever hearing it. It comes from a woman, and Lance spins around on the ground to catch sight of her. For some reason he has a sense of urgency to look at her face. 

He doesn’t get the chance, merely catching a glimpse of silver hair.

“You aren’t supposed to be here yet, leave.” The woman says and then he’s collapsing forward into Keith’s arms with a gasp. 

“McClain? What happened, you stopped answering my questions, are you okay?” Keith asks, barely stopping to breath in between words as he cradles Lance’s weak and limp body in his lap. 

Lance struggles to lift his head out of the crook of Keith’s neck, but he finds himself curling closer instead. He breathes in the scent of campfires, and sighs as Keith starts rubbing his back. “I don’t know, it was all blurry, but not like the usual blurriness. It was like I was drugged, and then there was a women’s voice? I didn’t see her face though.”

“What did the woman say?” Keith asks, still rubbing soothing circles along Lance’s shoulder blades. Lance curls closer into Keith’s arms, eyes fluttering closed in contentment. He really likes what Keith is doing with his hands right now, it feels nice. 

“Said I wasn’t supposed to be there yet and then forced me out of the vision. I think I just had a glimpse of a vision I’m supposed to have later on.” Lance grumbles. For a moment the hand on his back stops rubbing circles, and Lance growls in warning, so Keith resumes the soothing motion right after. 

“What do you think that means?” Keith asks. Lance shrugs, and then pauses to actually think about it seriously. 

“Maybe it means my magic is growing too much too soon?” Lance says with a shrug. “I don’t know, I’m just glad it wasn’t another vision about death and pain.”

“Well, it’s about time for us to get up and get to work stocking the ship with a crew.” Keith says, and with a groan of frustration. It’s always _fucking_ something. He’s sick and tired of not being able to get Keith to fuck him or to fuck Keith. It’s actually getting on his damned nerves. 

Lance grudgingly untangles himself from Keith’s arms and blankets, almost stumbling and falling to the ground when he finally gets himself free. If it wasn’t for Keith’s hand holding tight to his wrist, he would have face planted the wood. That wouldn’t have been pretty.

Something that is pretty though, that he hasn’t gotten a chance to fully embrace yet?

Keith’s bed head. That man’s hair is wild and sticking up all over the place, and his eyes are still half open, watching Lance like Lance watches him. He can’t help it when he surges forward and quickly steals a heated kiss from Keith’s lips. The kiss warms his body up as their lips slide together, punching the breath out of Lance’s lungs by the time he pulls away. 

Keith’s hands try to snatch him up when he moves away to get dressed for the day, missing by an inch. 

Keith growls as he tries to fight the covers to get free, and Lance smirks happily when Keith faceplants while Lance slips on his coat, buttoning up the fabric and slipping his sword belt on his hips. 

“Get back here McClain.” Keith demands as he scrambles to his feet, but Lance has already crossed the room to the door. Lance pauses with his hand on the door handle, eyeing Keith up hungrily for a moment. He especially takes his time raking his eyes over Keith’s abs, peeking out from beneath his rucked up peasant shirt. He can’t wait to run his tongue over those abs. 

“Another time Kogane, we got work to do.” Lance says, and he reaches to the side where Keith always puts his coat, tossing it to a very grumpy looking Keith and slipping out the door. Keith’s curses get cut off when Lance shuts the door, running a hand through his hair to settle the wild look he’s probably sporting.


	52. Silver Spots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance go to recruit more crewman and glimpse what Spirit Magic Exhaustion looks like.

Keith is very upset right now, a scowl permanent on his lips. 

He’s upset for many reasons, most of them revolving around Lance McClain. First, he’s horny. No other way to put it. He would have finally, _finally,_ gotten to take Lance like he’s been trying to do for weeks now, if not for that damned Spirit Magic. It’s not the only reason he’s angry and grumpy right now, but it is the main one. 

Another reason is that Lance is so _picky._

They’re in a tavern, Keith set up behind a large table, a stack of papers waiting to be filled up by new prospective crew members, and believe him, he’s had lots already try to apply. Lance however, stops them from signing up, standing behind Keith like he’s the muscle and not Keith. Lance is a literal bean pole, his appearance is not very threatening. He’s already frozen three people who got pissed that Lance refused to allow them on Keith’s ship because of it. 

Keith sighs as another one walks up, ready for the hand hitting the table to prevent the person from signing up. He sees it written in the air. The one walking up to him looks barely of age to drink, let alone to sail, and Keith watches him walk up. Watches the nervous look on his face get worse as he gets closer, seeing the remnants of the ice left over from the last idiot who challenged Lance. Keith prepares for the loud smacking sound, but it never comes. 

“Uh, you guys still looking for a crew?” The kid says.

“You know we’re pirates correct?” Lance asks, and the kid nods, gripping his satchel harder. 

“Yes sir.” The kid says, and he barely manages to cover up the croak in his voice. 

“Sign here kid, and then report to the Dragon’s Fire immediately.” Lance says, and Keith perks up. Finally! Lance let someone sign up! The kid looks green, like he’s never even been in a tavern, let alone on a pirate ship, but that means he’s moldable. Teachable. The kid brightens, signs his name, and Lance hands the kid the papers that will grant him access past Krolia who stands guard. He scampers off. 

“So, only one in the past three hours?” Keith asks, turning halfway in his seat to look Lance in the eyes. Lance smirks and crosses his arms, playing with a snow flurry with his top hand. 

“Don’t worry, we won’t be here too much longer. Why don’t you get us some drinks, I’ll stay and keep an eye out for potential sailors.” Lance says, and Keith doesn’t like that he’s been put on errand duty, but anything to get out of this uncomfortable chair is something he’s happy to do. He stands up, weaving through the crowd to get to the bar and grab two mugs of ale. The crowd is heavy tonight, so he barely manages to squeeze into a space at the bar to get drinks. 

For a moment the barmen doesn’t even glance in Keith’s direction, but he flashes two gold pieces and is immediately served. 

Keith grabs the drinks happily, making his way back through the crowd slowly so he doesn’t spill the ale. When he gets back to the table, he’s shocked to see a line has formed in front of his table, and Lance is in his seat. Keith watches in shock as he waves one person away, while handing papers to the next. He keeps moving when he almost spills the ale when someone bumped into him, and he places the ale mugs on the table, sidling up behind Lance. 

“No. Leave.” Lance says to one person, waving the next forward. Keith counts at least seven people in line before the line disappears into the crowd. The next one hesitantly signed the papers, and then is handed the papers with a seal to get onto Keith’s ship. “Welcome aboard the Dragon’s Fire.”

“McClain?” Keith asks when the crowd surges on the line a moment, preventing the next person from stepping forward yet. “How did you get so many people in line?” 

Lance glances up at Keith where he leans down to quieten his words. “You had a very scary look on your face, no one wanted to sign up because of you.” 

“But this will be my crew?” Keith asks. Lance smiles wickedly as he waves the next person forward. 

“Exactly. Now hush, I’m working here.” Lance says, waving him back as he lets the person sign up. Wow, was his expression really that scary? It’s practically no time at all from that point as the stack of papers to give to new hires dwindles every minute. Lance barely even glances at most of the people in line, blindly waving away some and signing up others. 

Keith almost thinks Lance isn’t using his magic, but he sees the effect of using all of that Spirit Magic is doing to him. 

It’s strange to see the signs of magic exhaustion from Spirit Magic. If it was Lance’s Ice Magic, there would be frost granules over his face, eyes glowing blue, and/or his hands would start freezing over. But with Spirit Magic it’s different. Subtle, but there. 

Lance’s beautiful blue eyes are glowing a pure silver right now. His skin, in small patches across his face and arms, looks like Lance rolled in silver body glitter. Like very tiny frost granules embedded in his skin. The strange part is the fact that Lance’s hair, at the very tips, is tainted silver too. That’s never happened with other magic. Keith’s hair catches on fire, sure, but the color of his hair stays black. And Lance’s hair didn’t turn blue when he nearly froze to death in that forest because he was stubborn and stupid. 

All of the silver changes to Lance’s appearance makes him almost look ethereal. 

Like he’s not fully human. Like he’s a true creature of the sea. A true serpent. It’s beautiful to behold, even though Keith knows the implications of such beautiful effects. He wants to touch the sparkly spots, strangely enough. He wants to know if the sparkly spots are cold like Lance always is. He wants to know if those spots have a different texture than Lance’s skin. He just wants to touch Lance. 

Keith is so involved in staring at the silver sparkly spots that he barely notices when Lance hands off the last paper, meaning the last of the needed crew has been signed on and is headed to Keith’s ship. It won’t be like on Lance’s ships, where there’s an abundance in crew so no one on the ship has to haul ass everyday. But he has the necessary amount of people needed to cover at least two shifts of work. One for sunup to sundown, one for sundown to sunup. A day crew and a night crew. 

Lance stands up from his seat, wobbling on his feet like he’s drunk for a moment, but Keith knows it’s the magic exhaustion. The silver tips have gone further, taking up a full half inch of Lance’s medium length hair. There’s a few places where the silver takes up a full half of a curl, the dark brown fading to shiny silver. 

It’s a really good look on Lance.

The silver not the magic exhaustion. Just to be clear. Keith wouldn’t wish magic exhaustion on his worst enemy let alone… Lance. Didn’t Lance used to be an enemy too? Maybe not his worst enemy, sure, that would be the Emperor or his whoring, bloodthirsty son. But still. 

Lance raises a hand to pick at a patch of silver on his face, jerking his hand back with a hiss the moment he touches the spot. “Uh, what the hell?” Lance says in confusion. Keith shakes himself out of the trance the pretty silver sparkly spots are putting him under. 

“We should get you to the ship, your skin is bearing subtle signs of magic exhaustion.” Keith says, clearing his voice so it doesn’t come out weird in any way. He isn’t sure what sound his voice would make in that moment, but he’s not about to risk it in public in a tavern with too many people. 

“Magic exhaustion? Is my skin freezing again?” Lance asks, and Keith clears his throat again, forcing his eyes to look away from the line of silver sparkly skin over Lance’s nose. It reminds him, oddly, of the last time he saw Shiro in person. With the cut on his nose still scabbed and covered with dry blood. Not a pleasant thing to be reminded of when staring at Lance, so he looks away, grabs Lance’s hand, and then nearly jumps out of his skin at the texture of Lance’s palm. 

Almost… scaly? No that’s not the word. It’s smooth, but not smooth skin kind of smooth, more like a rock that’s been smoothed by the sea for centuries kind of smooth. Where it isn’t quite the kind of smooth as silk, but it’s not quite as rough as a rock. That makes sense right?

Wow, Keith is _way_ too focused on the _wrong thing._

“Wrong magic McClain.” Keith finally answers, dragging Lance back towards his ship. Keith keeps hold of the strange textured palm even when the crowd threatens to separate them. And he doesn’t let go as they walk quickly through town to get back to his ship. He _also_ can’t help himself, rubbing his hand over Lance’s palm to feel more of the strange texture when a broken sound breaks from Lance’s throat behind him. 

“Kogane, I swear to the gods, stop doing that.” Lance hisses, almost prying his hand free of Keith’s grip. Keith stops walking when he does, turning around to look at Lance’s face. His cheeks are bright red, making the silver less than subtle, the strip of his nose being accentuated by the flush in Lance’s natural skin. It’s really pretty to look at. Mesmerizing even. 

“Doing what?” Keith asks, still not looking away from the silver sparkly strip. He can’t decide which silver feature to stare at. The silver sparkly strip over Lance’s nose, the blindingly silver glowing eyes, or the silver ends of Lance’s hair. Keith thought Lance looked good in blue, but damn if he doesn’t look better in silver. 

First chance Keith gets he’s commissioning a coat, exactly like the one Lance is wearing now, but in silver. 

“Because it feels,” Lance starts to say, then his skin flushes more, making the silver stand out even _more_ and _dammit Keith stop staring!_ “Strange.” Lance finishes lamely, his voice raising in octave so he sounds like he’s squeaking his words and not saying them. 

In confusion, Keith drags his eyes over Lance’s body to see what’s wrong, and when he sees nothing obvious he just look at Lance like he’s crazy. Lance, who holds the same hand Keith had been rubbing his own palm against, to his chest. 

“Strange how?” Keith asks. Lance hisses at him and steps forward, close enough to whisper in Keith’s face. Not his ears, because Lance is staring him down with a weak glare, but to Keith’s face. 

“Whatever this strange silver stuff is, it’s _sensitive.”_ Lance hisses out between his teeth. Keith, admittedly, has never been the best at reading between the lines. He’s a straightforward guy and he prefers straightforward people. But these lines are ones Keith can read between. His face flushes like Lance’s is, and he clears his throat, avoiding eye contact. God, weren’t they about to have actual, you know, _sex_ this morning? Why is the mention of the silver spots being _sensitive_ making him blush more than making out with Lance does?

Keith must have hit his head at some point, because there’s no way he’s this stupid and lovesick. 

_Wait no, not the ‘L’ word, not what I meant!_

“Let’s get you back to the ship.” Keith says, and this time he doesn’t grab Lance’s anything, let alone his hand. 

“Good idea.” Lance says, and the two of them fast walk back to Keith’s ship. They bypass Krolia, who still stands guard at the ship ramp, a stack of papers in her hand. She nods at him, not moving to follow. Keith guesses this is because not all of the new hires have arrived yet, since she knows exactly how many people were getting hired from this port. 

Keith nods back, and he and Lance head straight to Keith’s quarters, bypassing the crew as Lance’s heavy breathing and wheezing attracts too much attention. 

Keith quickly shuts and locks the door behind him as Lance practically collapses onto the bed. In the few minutes it took to get back to the ship, Lance’s entire face has become a gigantic silver sparkly spot, and since he’s no longer flushed in the face, it just makes Lance look like he’s glistening from sweat. Especially in the dimmed light of Keith’s quarters when the curtains are closed. 

“How are you doing, what can I do to help, do you need water or heat or what?” Keith asks quickly as he takes long strides to stand next to Lance. 

Lance shakes his head and then groans out words, eyes clenched tightly shut. “Don’t know, shit, shouldn’t have over done it so much.”

“What do you feel like? Maybe that will help me help you?” Keith asks desperately. He isn’t sure if this is the same as when Lance’s ice nearly froze him solid in the forest. Maybe this is just a small backlash, maybe it’s a deadly one. Keith doesn’t know how to tell because, like he’s said before, _he’s never seen Spirit Magic backlash._

“I feel like the sound of ripping paper.” Lance says. 

“I,” Keith starts to say, but he’s confused by what Lance said. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“Means it feels like my head is doing what the sound of ripping up a paper is.” Lance says, groaning and turning his face into Keith’s pillow. Not Lance’s pillow, Keith’s. For some strange reason, this action makes Keith blush, but he ignores the heat in his face to find a way to help Lance.

“Like a headache?” Keith asks.

“No. Like my head is splitting in half, like multiple headaches decided to pile on top of each other.” Lance hisses at him. His hands dart up to his head, nails gripping into his scalp so hard Keith notices one of them split the skin, a bead of blood bubbling beneath Lance’s nail. Keith immediately pulls Lance’s hands away, and climbs onto the bed, making Lance sit up so his head is cradled in Keith’s lap. 

“I think I can help, but I don’t know if it will work okay?” Keith says, heating up his hands when Lance gives a very small nod, wincing even at that small a movement. Keith presses his heated hands next to Lance’s temples and then starts rubbing his temples in small circular motions. With his magic, Keith tries to sooth the headache by applying heat to the area. He’s not sure if it would even work, but Lance’s face does ease up, some of the pain slipping away. 

“That’s a little better.” Lance mumbles, but Keith sees the pinch in his eyebrows not fading. Keith twists his lips to the side to try and think of a way to help. What did Shiro used to do for Keith's headaches? Keith used to get real bad headaches when in big crowds, having lived isolated on the streets for most of his life after his dad passed away. 

Shiro used to take him somewhere quiet, secluded, and he would rub at Keith’s temples while humming softly. 

Would a lullaby help Lance? Worth a shot. Keith breathes in deeply before he starts humming softly the lullaby Shiro used to sing. It’s strange to look back at all of the times Shiro provided him his coping mechanisms. 

When Keith’s using too much magic, stories help calm both himself and his magic. When he used to get constant migraines, Shiro would rub Keith’s temples and hum a lullaby. When Keith couldn’t sleep, he would run his fingers gently through Keith’s scalp to lull him to sleep. Nightmares? Shiro rubbed circles over Keith’s chest. Panic attack? Shiro would talk to him, never mattered about what, but Shiro would talk in this very calming voice that always made him breathe easier. 

Shiro is the reason he can take care of himself so well, and why he can help Lance like this. 

Keith looks down at Lance as he keeps humming the lullaby over and over again. Weird, he never actually learned the words, only the tune. Lance’s face is relaxed now, hands folded over his stomach, tiny snores escaping his lips. Keith lets out a sigh of relief. He’s glad to see the silver sparkly spots are slowly receding, already back to being a line over his nose, which will separate into a few splotches on his cheek bones before going away. As glad as Keith is that this was the small backlash, he’s terrified to find out what a deadly one looks like. 

Guess he’ll just have to keep an eye on Lance, to make sure he stops before he can get that far. 

Keith resumes his humming when Lance’s eyebrows scrunch up, still rubbing slow circles into Lance’s temples with heated hands. His thoughts return to Shiro, the man who taught him that love isn’t war, that he isn’t alone. The man who taught Keith how to control his magic, despite not having any of his own that Keith knows of. The man who took him in, off the streets during the deadliest winter Daibazal has ever seen. Who taught Keith Common, who comforted Keith in the middle of the night during nightmares. 

Shiro is the one who gave Keith purpose in life, the one who told Keith he could be more than a homeless orphan on the streets. Shiro loved Keith when he hadn’t felt love in years after his father passed away, or rather, when Keith killed him. Shiro is the one who helped Keith mourn, helped Keith understand that the fire wasn’t his fault, that yes, while his magic went haywire, it wasn’t his fault. Keith’s father chose to run into that building to save others, others Keith put into danger because he was an angry child with wild magic he couldn’t control. 

Keith had been shunned, mocked, thrown on the streets to starve or survive by his own hand. 

And Shiro was the one who broke the monotonous cycle of Starve, Steal, Run. Shiro saved Keith’s life, and now it’s Keith’s turn to return the favor. As long as Lance McClain sticks around until after the rescue plan is a success, then Keith will be happy. He’ll be fine with what little scraps Lance gives him. 

Keith can do that. 

He can survive off of the teasing words and the heated kisses, and the secret talks in the middle of the night. Ones they don’t speak of because it’s too intimate, too personal. He can live off of getting to hold Lance at night now, save the memories for when Lance leaves. They aren’t dating, or courting. They’re just fucking around. Keith can live with that.

He’ll be fine, it’s not like he’s actually _falling_ for Lance, certainly not, it's just sexual attraction.


	53. Backlash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance experiences Spirit Magic Backlash and Exhaustion.

For five days after extending his Spirit Magic, Lance is exhausted. The crew has already been treated to drinks by Keith, they’ve already left port, they’re already back on route to meet up at the rendezvous point. But Lance has slept for five days. He’ll wake up, manage to eat something, get a migraine, and then have to have Keith lull him to sleep by humming a song and rubbing his temples with warm hands. The silver spots on his skin are mostly gone, but his eyes still glow silver. 

Lance hasn’t looked into a mirror since the first time he did, nearly screaming at his own eyes in the mirror. 

It doesn’t _look right._ Lance has blue eyes, they’re the best part of his looks. He’s had blue eyes his entire life, so suddenly having _silver_ eyes freaks him out. Keith always says it looks pretty and cool, but Lance disagrees. He wants his normal eye color back. Is the silver permanent? It better not be permanent. He can’t remember what color Roya’s eyes were, were they silver too? Did he even look?

Her younger self had vibrant blue eyes like Lance, did she lose her blue?

Will Lance lose _his_ blue? He doesn’t want to lose his blue, they remind him of the sea, of his mother and brothers and sisters, he wants to keep his blue. How does he keep his blue if the silver won’t leave? Can he force it to leave? Will it leave on it’s own once he’s fully recovered? 

He can’t breathe, why can’t he breath? 

Is Lance having a panic attack? Now of all times? He hasn’t had a panic attack since he was little, how does he stop a panic attack? His chest hurts, his head hurts, he can’t _breathe._ Lance struggles in the blankets of Keith’s bed, heaving for breath he can’t catch. His hands are clawing at the floor, when did he get to the floor? 

“McClain? What’s wrong? What?” Keith says, suddenly kneeling beside Lance on the floor. When did Keith get here? God his head hurts, make it _stop._ “Lance, it’s okay, breathe.”

Lance doesn’t breath, he can’t, he’s too busy clutching his head, clawing at his chest, freaking the literal fuck out. Keith shifts and he’s filling up Lance’s field of vision, violet eyes imploring Lance to look at him and calm down. Lance tries to match his breathing to Keith’s overly obvious ones, like he has to do with Hunk when Hunk gets a panic attack. 

Unfortunately, it does not work. 

Keith’s face crumbles in worry before it smoothes out, and Keith stops kneeling, sitting down fully. And then he just… talks. Something about the new crew’s antics, but it’s not the story that makes Lance’s shoulders relax, it’s the tone of his voice. It’s deeper, but not the kind of rough deepness that happens when Keith gets turned on. It’s soft, soothing, melodic. 

Lance feels his eyes start to slip closed, the pain in his chest starting to fade, allowing him to breathe a little better. He still gasps for breath, but the gasps have more time in between them. His head still hurts though so he shuts his eyes tightly, cradling his head in his hands. Keith reaches forward, and Lance only knows this because his hands are removed and replaced, warm fingers rubbing slow circles on his temples. The deepness of Keith’s voice stays, but it’s no longer words, just a humming sound. His mouth must be open, because it’s louder than usual, but it works. 

Lance breathes normally, his head stops hurting, and he’s falling asleep where he sits. 

“Come on, let’s get in bed.” Keith says, still using that calming tone of his voice, even as he picks Lance up in a deadlift, cradling Lance in his arms for a moment before setting Lance down on the bed. Keith shifts Lance a few times to dislodge the blankets, pulling the covers up and over Lance to tuck him in. 

Lance practically falls asleep the moment Keith pulls the blanket over him, falling into a dreamless, visionless sleep. 

The next morning is far better for Lance. He wakes up with the sun, Keith cuddling up to him from behind, and for once he isn’t tired. His head doesn’t hurt. He feels good. And hungry, really hungry. That’s another thing he hasn’t really had since he over extended his magic, an appetite. Which is especially strange for Lance because Lance can eat for hours straight and not feel full. Cook used to cry when he first joined Lance’s crew, because Lance’s black hole of a stomach was never satisfied. Cook has learned to make three times the amount of food needed to sustain Lance’s crew everyday, so long as Lance keeps his storage filled to the brim with ingredients. 

That man is a godsend for Lance. 

Lance slowly eases himself out of the covers, stilling as Keith grumbles at him, the arm around Lance’s waist tightening briefly. Keith’s eyebrows scrunch up in his sleep, and Lance barely stops himself from cooing. He leans down, leaving a gentle kiss on Keith’s forehead to ease the tension in his brow, before finally slipping out of bed. Lance dresses quickly and quietly, feeling more stable on his feet than he has in days, leaving the room with a bright smile on his face. 

He doesn’t check the mirror to see if his blue eyes have returned, deciding to bask in the good morning he’s having before learning if his eyes are still silver. 

Lance slowly makes his round of the ship, eating the hand full of sandwiches Keith’s cook supplied him. He waves at everyone who greets him, but he doesn’t stick around for a conversation. He just roams the ship as the day crew prepare to continue sailing to their destination. If Lance is remembering correctly, they should be within range of the others in the next day or two. 

He can’t decide if he’s dreading his return to his ship, or anticipating it. 

On one hand, Lance can’t wait to see Hunk, and his little protege, again. Check on Pidge’s progress, make sure his ship and crew are still in one piece, sleep in his own bed. On the other, he’s gotten used to the laid back feel of _not_ being a Captain, and he’s positive he’ll miss Keith’s presence in the middle of the night. For all activities, including but not limited to: intimate conversations, cuddling, and making out.

Lance sighs out of his nose as he finishes off his last sandwich, kind of wanting to get some more, but he’s content enough that he doesn’t need any more. 

Lance makes himself at home, reclining lazily on the balustrade, one leg propped up, the other dangling over the ocean. He can almost feel the water on his toes, even though he’s dozens of feet off the surface. It calls to him, and he wonders if he can manage to use his magic. His ice magic, mind you, he’s not ready to deal with his Spirit Magic right now. 

Lance looks around, finding no one paying too much attention to him, and he lets one hand dangle over the water. 

His fingers twitch, and he sends out a string of magic energy, connecting it to the ocean waves. He let’s the connection hang there limply for a moment as he checks in on himself to see if he’s tired or not. When he finds himself in the clear, his fingers twitch again, and Lance watches excitedly as a strip of water rises from the surface. It dances in the air for a moment, before dropping back into the water. 

Keith hasn’t allowed him any magic use in the past six days, so being able to use his magic again is like a weight off of his shoulders. It feels good. Feels great actually. Lance extends his magical reach, going out further, and he tries to summon his ice serpent. It takes a moment, but Lance watches gleefully as his magic forms first the tail, then the body, and finally the head. All of it stays submerged so no one picks up on it too easily and tattles to their Captain, but seeing his beautiful serpent again makes him happy. 

Gods, he’s so glad he’s not bedridden anymore. 

Although, there is the matter, that, if his eyes are still silver, he may not be fully recovered. Unless he is, and the silver is permanent. He might have to get used to the silver in his eyes. Lance disperses his serpent, relaxing fully on the balustrade with eyes closed, letting his still dangling hand create and disperse snow flurries lazily. Exercising his magic feels like he’s coming home. 

“You know, you could have woken me up.” Keith grumbles at him, and Lance peeks open his eyes to look the man in full. He’s dressed as usual, in his stupid sleeveless coat, a red peasant shirt, and black pants tucked into boots. Today his swords are strapped against his back, which makes Lance curious, because usually when he isn’t expecting a fight he straps them to his hips instead. Less control of the unsheathing of the blade but they’re more out of the way and easier to remove the belt. His dark hair, as usual, is pulled against the nape of his neck with a leather strap, his bangs concealing his eyes from the world. 

Absolutely gorgeous. 

“You looked peaceful in your sleep, and I was feeling better than I have in days, so sue me for deciding to get some fresh air.” Lance says, shrugging his shoulders and rolling a coin sized frozen snowflake between his knuckles like it’s an actual coin. He raises the hand with the snowflake in it, coating it with permafrost, and then tosses it to Keith, who catches it middair without even looking. 

Keith looks at the snowflake in confusion and Lance hides his smile. 

“What’s this for?” Keith asks. Lance shrugs, turning his head to gaze out over the water. 

“Many things. One of them being simply that it’s a gift.” Lance says, his vision glazing over like he’s lost in a trance. He doesn’t do it on purpose, but he can’t seem to force himself out of it. Something draws his attention out into the sea, but there’s nothing there but water and sky. Even Lance’s exceptional eyesight can’t find whatever it is that calls to his attention. Dazedly he continues speaking, eyes and attention fully focused on the water in the distance, too far for Lance to see. “Another being that it’s tied to my magic. So long as I live, it stays intact.”

This seems to alarm Keith, who sucks in a sharp breath. 

“McClain have you seen a vision?” Keith asks. Well, actually, he demands it, but Lance, still in his daze, only smiles. 

“No.” Lance says. He raises his hand to point out towards the water. “Something wants me to go that way.”

“What? Like, a Knowing?” Keith asks. Lance shakes his head no, still pointing. 

“No, it wants me to go that way.” Lance says. His hand drops down harshly, Lance no longer having the will or strength to keep it up. Lance has half a mind to just tilt. Just a little, tilt towards the water and send himself into the sea so he can follow what has him entranced. The other half remembers his deal, the vision of Lance’s possible death, of Keith being the catalyst to saving his life. “But I have other things to do first.”

“McClain, why are you talking like that?” Keith says. Lance hums. 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re dazed, are you alright?” Keith asks, kneeling beside Lance and placing his hand on Lance’s shoulder. The moment Keith touches Lance he snaps out of his daze, registering Keith beside him in confusion before looking back out over the water. The thing calling out to him still calls, but the urgency has suddenly faded. 

“I’m fine.” Lance says, pulling his eyes off the water. When his eyes light upon Keith the strange thing calling him fades away like a dream, and Lance brightens considerably as he creates a tiny, basic dragon sculpture out of ice. It’s nowhere near as detailed as Keith’s fire can be, but it’s the best he’s got for the time being. “Oh hey Kogane, guess what? I can use my magic again!”

Keith’s eyes crinkle in confusion, and Lance spots the permafrost snowflake still held delicately between Keith’s fingers, and he wills the sculpture into non-existence. “Hey that’s pretty,” Lance says, reaching out and taking the snowflake to examine. It looks oddly familiar. Lance’s thumb smoothes over the surface of the snowflake and feels his magic pulse with it, meaning Lance was the one who created such a pretty object. 

Wow, he’s been practising, but he’s never been able to mold his ice into something as intricately designed as this beautiful snowflake. 

He’s had some difficulty trying to imitate Keith’s little fire puppet shows, but ice isn’t like fire. Ice is unyielding, easily breakable in small quantities, harder in large ones. It’s been impossible trying to shape his ice into something pretty and fluid like Keith’s fire. Naturally someone would think to use water instead but it’s just as impossible. Water is unmoldable. It doesn’t take shape in anything other than blobs, water needs to be put _into_ something in order for it to take any discernable shape. 

Lance puzzles over the snowflake a moment longer before handing it back to Keith with a shrug, who looks at him with wild eyes. 

“You,” Keith pauses, voice shaky. Lance raises an eyebrow in confusion as he sits up from the balustrade. “You don’t remember making this for me?”

“No, I recognize my own magical signature though. Why what’s it for?” Lance asks, and then hesitantly follows up with, “If you don’t want it I can-”

“No! No I want it, I’ll keep it around my neck, see?” Keith says, reaching his free hand up to yank the leather strap out of his hair, making those black locks whip around his face due to the wind. He quickly loops the leather strap through two holes at either side of the snowflake, conveniently the perfect sized holes for the leather strap. 

Keith tries to wrap the leather strap around his neck, but the strap is too short, and Lance takes pity when Keith’s eyes become even more wild from panic. 

“Here, allow me.” Lance says, taking the strap and the snowflake out of Keith’s hands, and then taking hold of Keith right wrist. The strap fits perfectly, and so does the snowflake. It rests gently against Keith’s inner wrist, practically glowing blue from Lance’s magic. 

“Thank you, for the gift and everything.” Keith whispers, and Lance looks up from Keith’s wrist to find half lidded violet eyes peering down up at him. Lance’s breath hitches, but he clears his throat. 

“Of course.”

“Lance?” Keith says, just before Lance goes to stand up, the hand with the snowflake bracelet grabbing a gentle hold on Lance’s arm. “Are you sure you don’t remember what you said when you gave me this?”

Lance tilts his head in confusion, trying to remember, but his brain is foggy. He doesn’t remember at all, and he wonders if that should worry him. Maybe memory loss is a part of the ‘payment’ ordeal of over doing it with Spirit Magic? He hopes not, he wants to remember all of his stolen moments with Keith before they rescue his brother and Keith disappears. 

Keith’s clearly not going to stick around after the rescue mission. He had to make a deal with Keith, just to ensure he would save Lance’s life when the day comes, instead of running away with Shiro and leaving them all for dead. Keith says no more on the subject, and Lance finds himself very uncomfortable. 

Keith knows something Lance doesn’t, when Lance’s magic literally prevents that from happening.

He doesn’t like it. What did he say? What did he do? It must have been bad if Lance goes by that wild look in Keith’s eyes. Did he have a vision or something? But he remembers all of his visions, especially now when he can recognize the signature of his Spirit Magic like he does with his Ice Magic. So why not this one? What happened? 

What does Keith know and why isn’t he spilling the beans to Lance?


	54. Sand Cay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance rendezvous with the others at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait everybody! I', kind of taking a small hiatus from TSATD before I burn out on the story, but I still have two chapters already written and ready so I'll post them soon as well! Hopefully by then I'll have enough energy to continue the story! Thank you so much for your patience and your lovely comments and for following me on this journey!

Keith doesn’t get even a second to process the whole thing with Lance on the balustrade. 

He was so dazed, like he had been struck behind the head. His words had slurred a little, his eyes had hooded, and he was solely focused on a point in the distance too far to see, even by Lance’s magnificent vision. It was almost like the time he had a vision of Shiro, when he started slurring because of Shiro’s concussion. 

The most worrying fact of that whole situation is a toss up between the snowflake on Keith’s wrist, and the fact that Lance doesn’t remember any of it. 

On one hand, the snowflake is worrying because Lance said it as if he was going to die when Keith isn’t around, and he wanted to make sure Keith knew for some reason. On the other hand, Lance has a fantastic memory. One night, they had been talking while cuddling in Keith’s bed, both too tired to do much more than talk. They were reminiscing, and Lance brought up a snide remark Keith had made in the first of the three ambushes Keith had done on the Serpent Lion, which was almost a year ago! 

So Lance has a fantastic memory. 

Note to self: No more speaking without thinking, Lance will remember it all. 

_Except he didn’t remember the snowflake._

Keith saw it too, he watched, waited for a hint of recognition in Lance’s eyes while he was looking the snowflake over, but nothing. Not until Keith felt the faint pulse of two different points of Lance’s magical signature, one in the snowflake, and one in Lance himself. Only then was there recognition, but he didn’t remember making it. He was too impressed by the craftsmanship of the snowflake to remember making it.

And compared to the little ice dragon he tried to make it was like two different hands with the same magic. 

Oh man, something wrong is happening with Lance. Or something wrong happened? Will there be more instances like this? And what called him, what told him to ‘go that way’? Keith puzzles over it all as Lance calls on his Ice Serpent to push the boat forward at three times the speed, Lance safely encased behind the ice plated head with eyes closed. His left hand messes with his new bracelet, the ice cold against his wrist in a pleasing way. 

Keith was afraid he would break it at first, but Lance rolled his eyes and said don’t worry about it, so he won’t worry about the breakability of a _fucking snowflake._

Right now, Lance is pushing them through the home stretch, the rendezvous point visible in the distance. Lance hasn’t acted weird since the Snowflake Incident (that’s what Keith’s calling that strange conversation from now on) but Keith keeps a close eye on him, waiting for another moment of dazed strangeness. 

It never comes, but the waiting makes Keith paranoid. 

Everytime Lance so much as glances towards the water Keith tenses up and prepares himself for another bout of strangeness. And when it never comes he becomes jittery and unfocused, like coming down off a drug high (Keith has his demons, sue him). The only way he can manage to calm down is to work the nerves out of his body by force. Normally that would mean heavy workouts. 

With Lance around it means heavy make outs.

So, at least one good thing happened due to the strangeness on the balustrade. Lance is all over Keith these past few days, and Keith happily indulges to rid himself of the paranoid jitters. They never make it much farther than kissing and maybe grinding, a hand job at most. For some strange reason neither of them press forward. Like something’s stopping them from just getting it over with already. Keith couldn’t explain his own reason for it to save his own life. 

“Land Ho!” Keith’s crow calls, who Keith has appointed the tall guy who took command the first day from the original six, a man named Oliver. Keith’s been deciding whether he should appoint Oliver Quartermaster. It would help ease some of the load from Krolia’s shoulders so she’s not running herself ragged trying to keep the ship in line. 

Besides, Oliver pretty much handles the arguments between crewmen already, and usually the quartermaster handles the day to day life on a ship. Krolia will handle directing the crew at work. Oliver will handle the day to day life between crewmates. Keith steers the ship and navigates. Nice and tidy. 

Keith steers his ship into range of the small uninhabited island (more like a sand cay actually, he can literally see the other side of this thing it’s so small). It’s big enough to house all twelve ships comfortably, with sand from one side to the other. The Dragon’s Fire drops anchor just beyond the shore, where the water is still deep, since a sand cay is on top of a coral reef. Keith allows Krolia to direct the readying of his small lifeboat to sail to the shore as he turns to Lance. 

His words are caught in his throat as his wrist, the right one with his snowflake, is grabbed by Lance and he’s being hauled over the edge of his ship with a short scream. It’s cut off as water engulfs him and suddenly he’s surging towards shore faster than he expected. Damn, Lance must have saved them days of time with his serpent, that of which Keith is not engulfed in this time, just a giant blob of water tumblings towards the shore at high speeds. Keith sees the ground rush at him and the breath he had been holding under Lance’s water escapes as he screams, muffled by the water. He closes his eyes with a prayer on the tip of his tongue, and suddenly he’s deposited gently on the sand. 

Well, not gently, but at least he’s not dead. 

Keith hacks up the water he swallowed in his screaming, dripping wet and actually cold for once. Lance’s body temp must have frozen the water around them, because Keith is shivering hard as he flops onto his back to desperately gasp for air. Lance stands over him with a smirk while Keith heaves. 

“That’s what you get for being so weird these past few days. Need help drying off?” Lance says, raising his hand into Keith’s face, and while it might have been a helpful hand, Keith shakes his head. 

“I’d rather steam myself dry thank you very much.” Keith says glaring at him and stumbling to his feet, fighting to wipe off the sand sticking to his clothes. Suddenly he’s being splashed with water, and he stands there as he’s hosed down, his bangs falling heavily into his eyes from the weight of the water. He futilely tries to blow one out of his face when the water stops but fails. “Really?” 

Lance starts snickering off to Keith’s right, and Keith raises his hands to part his bangs to glare at him, finding Lance red faced as he tries to avoid laughing. He fails. 

“What an entrance guys, what took so long?” James asks, and Keith has to turn his entire body to see the group gathered before them. Every one of those who were in the meeting are gathered, as well as a few others, people he doesn’t recognize so much as they recognize him. Judging by the glares, he’s pissed off more than Lance’s Captains. Keith sighs and drops his bangs back over his eyes to steam himself. 

Keith braces his feet and keeps his hands at his waist, palms up and arms bent lightly. 

When Keith releases his magic, which had been building up since he got his new crew, not wanting to ‘scare them off’ or whatever, his entire body erupts in flames. He lets himself burn for a few moments, until he feels steam stop rising from his body and clothes, then let’s it go just a moment longer before putting the lid back on his magic. He had made sure to not let his flames touch Lance’s snowflake though, because the steady coldness rests against his wrist comfortably. 

When the fire starts to let up he pats at his sleeves to make sure the fire is put out thoroughly, looking up to find everyone staring at him. He pauses mid pat, unsure of why he’s being stared at so openly. “What? Why are you all staring at me?”

Ryan nudges James, who’s seated on an empty crate, those of which litter the sand cay, while Ryan stands beside him. Keith is positive he’s never seen them apart before. Not even the times when Keith ambushed their ships, they were always close to each other, so Keith learned to hit hard, fast, and get the hell out of there before backup can arrive. “Can you guys do that?”

Keith, as well as all of the fire mages in company, all say no at the same time. He gets more stares when it’s Keith who says that. 

“Why not?” Ina asks. Keith shrugs at them, feeling his hair catch on fire from his embarrassment. “By the way your-”

“I know. It does that. And none of them can do what I did because they aren’t like me and McClain, I would have seen it in them.” Keith explains, running a hand through his hair to try and put out the fire as he and Lance walk closer. 

“And that means?” Ina asks. 

“McClain and I use a different type of magic forms, I used to call it soul magic because overdoing feels like your soul is ripping itself apart to retaliate against you. For McClain he freezes solid, for me I could burn to a crisp.” Keith starts explaining, still patting his hair out. It’s wild and tangled and fluffed up now, but he doesn’t really care that much. “Most Fire Mages emit their magic from their hands, I can emit from my entire body. And since I have such a high amount of magical energy, I have to expel it constantly to prevent the previously stated retaliation. It’s a dangerous balance, but one I’m used to. It also allows me to breathe fire like I do.”

“That’s pretty cool, you self taught all of this?” Pidge asks, even as she bounds forward to embrace Lance in a hug. Keith shakes his head. 

“No, I had a teacher later in life, right before Shiro got arrested. He was like me, so he taught me what I was willing to learn before turning me loose.” Keith says, lips twitching into a smile as he recalls the harsh lesson Krolia’s Blade of Marmora leader, Kolivan, taught him. That man put Keith through hell, but Kolivan gave him the tools he would need to become the man and mage he is today. 

Hopefully by the end of this war Keith gets a chance to walk up to the Emperor himself and show off his strongest of spells with Zarkon as target practice.

Now that’s a nice goal to have. 

“Is everyone here?” Lance asks when his laughing fit fades, bright silver eyes still locked onto Keith with a heat that makes his ears burn. And his hair caught on fire again, goddammit. Keith runs his hand through his hair to put the fire out, the snowflake bracelet on his wrist catching a few strands with a little tug. Keith isn’t sure if the fact that Lance still has his haunting and beautiful silver eyes is a bad thing, or if it just means he’s still recovering, or what. Either way, as pretty as the silver can be, Keith misses the vibrant blue eyes. 

“Yes Captain. We got here two days ago. Are we ready to depart?” James asks, already standing from his crate and dusting sand off of his pants. Keith realizes James is wearing a red coat, one that reminds him eerily of his own, except with sleeves and in a much deeper red than Keith’s bright one. Is James trying to mock him? 

Lance shakes his head, those silvery eyes finally pulling away from Keith to look towards the others. Keith watches as shock visibly stills those present who know Lance personally. 

“Lance, your eyes, they're-” Ryan starts to say. Lance cuts him off with a raised hand.

“I know, and I’m fine. I overused my secondary magic a little, don’t worry about me.” Lance placates, but Keith recognizes the uneasiness in Lance’s tone. Subtle. But there. Keith can’t help but to frown as he watches Lance closely, looking for any signs of another panic attack. Lance shows no sign of obvious distress, but Keith decides to keep an eye out just in case. 

“Anyways. No we are not ready to depart, I would like to refresh everyone’s memory of the plan for good measure before we depart. I would also like to address all the first mates of every ship as well before we leave.” Lance says. Ina is the first to respond after a stretched silence heavy with tension.

“Shall we adjourn to the war room Captain?” She asks, and Lance nods. Ina immediately about faces to gather the Captains and the rest of the original audience present in the war room. Keith idly wonders where Adam is, and feels bad that he’s only just now remembering the quiet man exists. This is Shiro’s lover, he shouldn’t have forgotten about him so easily, what kind of brother is Keith?

Another presence that is missing from the welcoming party is Hunk, which is curious, Keith would have thought Hunk would have been the first to greet them upon plopping onto the shore. 

Sure enough, Hunk is furiously rowing a life boat to shore with a mad grin on his face, strangely coming from a ship that isn’t the Serpent Lion. Keith doesn’t recognize this ship, especially since the flag is lowered and the ship is kind angled away, which isn’t strange given all the other ships are too, but still.

In the boat with the furiously rowing, massive form making the lifeboat look smaller than it is, madly grinning Hunk, is Adam, Florona, and a tan skinned man Keith hasn’t met. Perhaps that’s Florona’s ship, and that’s her first mate? Whatever. 

Hunk wastes no time jumping out of the boat with a splash and lugging himself and the life boat through the shallow waters to dock on the sand of the sand cay. Hunk practically trips in his attempt to run over the sand, the fine white grains shifting beneath his foot to slow him down considerably. That doesn’t mean Hunk doesn’t barrel straight towards Keith and Lance, the latter of which came to stand beside Keith again to watch. No, Hunk does sprint as full speed as speed can get for a man like Hunk stumbling around on shifty sand. 

And Keith doesn’t realize he’s right in the target lane fast enough to dodge Hunk, who sweeps Keith and Lance easily off their feet. One of them in each of Hunk’s arms. Hunk squeezes, and Keith feels the precious air he had been breathing moments ago leave his lungs and never return from the force. He can’t help but to shoot Lance an incredulous look, shocked at the sheer power in these arms. 

Lance just laughs, and Lance’s laugh is contagious, so Keith smiles in response. 

“Oh man I’ve missed you guys so much, it was so lonely without you, and the crew were so much more rowdy without you to keep them in line Captain, and have I ever told you I never want to be a pirate captain?” Hunk gushes, barely taking a second to breath, and then at the brief, and Keith does mean brief, pause between sentences, Hunk squeezes even tighter. Keith feels like his ribs are about to be crushed. Hunk presses a cheek against Keith’s face, and then Lance’s in turn as he continues speaking. “Oh it’s so good to see you guys again! I could just hug the life out of you right now!”

“You are.” Lance wheezes, but despite looking like his own ribs are about to be crushed, he has a wild smile on his face, and his silver eyes practically glow when Hunk smushes their faces together. At Lance’s words, Hunk gasps, automatically dropping the both of them. Lance, used to Hunk’s antics, lands on his feet only a little less than gratefully, briefly bending over to catch his breath. Keith on the other hand?

“Oh my goodness! Keith! I am so sorry, are you dead? Please say you aren’t dead, I would cry if you were dead!” He’s crying right now. Keith stares up at Hunk’s teary eyes dazed as he sucks oxygen greedily in gasps. Keith is back first in the sand, arms splayed out beside him, legs star fished open as he tries to breathe normally again. A hand so cold Keith feels the freezing touch before the hand ever makes contact is thrust in Keith’s face. 

At least this time there isn’t a boot and a sword on his chest.

Keith grabs Lance’s hand, who pulls him up off the ground just in time for the entirety of Lance’s Captains and their first mates to walk up. Keith tries to wipe the sand off, the granules determined to stick everywhere on his body as punishment. He splutters as a strong stream of water is aimed first at his face, making him try to redirect the water with his hands and failing, and then down his body. Keith drops his hands in defeat as Lance once again hoses him down with his magic. 

He doesn’t even bother lifting his hair out of his face to glare this time, readying his stance to steam off, _again,_ as Lance just cracks up laughing.


	55. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance comes to terms with his budding feelings for Keith.

Lance and his miniature army have gone over the plan three more times, much to the dismay of those more impatient such as James and Keith, and now he’s about to address the First Mates. Not including Krolia or Hunk. That Oliver guy on Keith’s ship, as well as Rolo from Lance’s, are the ones represented alongside the First Mates. Lance breathes out of his nose as the sand cay is filled to the brim with confused men and women dressed nicely to represent their Captains well in the colors of the ship they reside on. 

Lance notices a few groups break off to talk to each other while waiting and wondering what Lance will say. 

“Captain.” Luxia says, stepping forward to stand beside Lance as he surveys the first mates. Lance crosses his arms, unsure of what it is she wished to ask him, because she always has a reason behind the things she does. Lance wonders often if he picked it up from her or vice versa. He tilts his head downward, only slightly, just enough for her to see and know she’s been given permission to proceed. 

“Captain, I was wondering about something. A few things actually.” Luxia says, her sort of pale green-yellow hair falling across her shoulder when the wind shifts slightly. The leather straps keep the hair from flying wild, and Lance resists the urge to touch his own curls. He’ll have Hunk cut them soon, they’re starting to tickle at his eyebrows and he hates it when his hair does that. 

“And those wonderings are?” Lance asks when he realizes she’s waiting for another cue to proceed. Luxia turns her eyes from Lance, where she had been side eyeing him, and looks back out over the First Mates. Her lips give a subtle twist, just barely allowing a scowl to ghost across her features. 

“Your eyes, for one. Is it a side effect of your secondary magic?” Luxia asks. She wasn’t on the sand cay when Lance arrived, so Lance answers her question with a nod, but he shakes his head just slightly to prevent further questioning. He has a speech to give, he doesn’t want her wonderings taking up too much daylight. The Red Moon is upon them in a few days, and if he’s right about that vision, they rescue Shiro on the day of the Red Moon. 

That is to say, if something hasn’t already changed the outcome. 

“So Captain Kogane. Are you two lovers now?” Luxia asks, bluntly but near silently, not sparing him a glance. Lance isn’t sure he’d put that specific label there since they’ve never gotten the time or privacy to make it true. However, saying that he and Keith are lovers is far simpler than saying I-kinda-hate-you-but-not-really-because-you’re-such-a-good-kisser-and-I-want-more-but-I-still-hate-you. 

Yeah that’s easy to explain. 

Lance does the nod and shake of his head pair to confirm and stem further questions. Luxia nods, not giving anything away in her expression, which is shocking, because Lance has always been able to read his Captains. Not being able to suddenly is strange. He knows it’s been a while since they last saw each other before this whole situation happened, but surely not that long?

“One last question.” Luxia asks, and this time she turns to face Lance head on, but he denies her the courtesy, still miffed at being unable to read her expressions anymore. He does allow her to ask the question, he just doesn’t look at her. “Are you sure about this? This speech? I know we all agreed to tell them, but I figured we would ease them into their choice.”

Lance purses his lips, still looking at the First Mates, who are starting to notice Lance’s intense glare and Luxia’s frown. 

“We don’t have time for those kinds of luxuries. They’ll have a week to ponder their choice.” Lance says. He sighs after a moment. “It’ll be okay. Even if I didn’t drop this bomb on these guys, I refuse to force anyone to fight in a war if they don’t want to. Especially those who aren’t even from Altea or Daibazal.”

“If you’re sure this is a good idea, then I’m with you.” Luxia says, and Lance finally turns towards her with a smile. Luxia’s face finally relaxes, allowing Lance to see past her mask and see her worry and fear and determination and trust. To another, her face is still stony. To her friends, and the observant eye, she wears her heart on her sleeve. 

Or well, for Luxia, her emotions are all based in her eyes. Hunk’s is in his entire face, Pidge’s in her mouth. 

Luxia offers him a tight smile, her lips saying ‘back the fuck off’ but her eyes are saying ‘I trust you’. Lance nods at her, and she walks back to rejoin the group of those who are going on the rescue mission, and Lance rolls his shoulders to prepare for his little speech. The moment he steps forward, Hunk’s foot stomps the ground, and the sand beneath Lance’s feet hardens and lifts just enough so Lance is on a small platform. 

All eyes fall on Lance when he clears his throat, everyone turning to face Lance in expectation. 

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why we’ve gathered so many pirates in one area, and I am here to answer your questions. But first, an introduction. I am Captain Lance McClain, Captain of the Serpent Lion. All of your Captains are here gathered before you, and they work for me, excluding Captain Keith Kogane of the Dragon’s Fire, an ally and an employer.” Lance explains. The chatter that had been intermittent while he was speaking immediately silences at Lance’s introduction. Lance shifts his feet before continuing. 

“Your Captains and I are embarking on a mission into the heart of Daibazal, and our mission is to infiltrate, retrieve, and return back to the ships with every prisoner of Daibazal’s main Arena, in the Capital City.” Lance continues, and he allows the crowd to whisper amongst themselves for a moment before raising his hand to silence them all and regain attention. 

“We are expected to return by week’s end. However, should we not return within seven days, those of you present are promoted to Captains of your respective ships, on one condition. Someone has to sail to Altea and prepare them for war, whether you and your crew joins the war and on which side, that will be up to you to decide.” Lance finally finishes. It’s a moment filled with silence before questions and yells are being hurled at him. Lance raises his hand and effectively shuts everyone up. He points to someone in the crowd, a woman wearing deep reds. “One at a time please. You, front and center. Name, Ship, and question.”

The woman is tall, with the customary Daibazalee tilt to her eyes, making them look almost catlike. Her hair is short, pulled back tight against her head except for one thick lock of hair, which she blows out of her face with a brief look of annoyance. She steps forward from the crowd, placing one fist against her cocked hip while the other hangs loosely, hand sticking close to the very large and very sharp looking Daibazalee sword. 

“I am Acxa of the Aqua Majesty. What makes you think we would wait the seven days out before taking your ships and leaving? What makes you think anyone would sail to Altea to warn them of war as well?” Acxa demands, and Lance’s eyebrow raises as he recognizes her face. She’s on wanted posters all over the Empire for ‘desertion’, the reward prized at ten thousand gold last Lance checked. Everyone knows, of course, that she didn’t desert her country. She was pursued by the Prince, and when she rejected him, was framed for treason, murder, and grand theft from the Empire’s treasure room.

The last one was correct, but that’s it. Lance can’t remember screening her for Nadia’s ship, but then again, Nadia has always been the wild and willful type. She probably took one look at Acxa with her pretty grey eyes and her dyed purple hair, thought ‘she’s cool’ and/or ‘she’s trouble’ and took her in on the spot. 

“I know, because my magic would let me know otherwise.” Lance says, not going into any further detail, looking away from Acxa’s cold grey eyes and effectively dismissing her. Lance doesn’t miss the fact that those same grey eyes watch him intently, almost as intently as a certain pair of violet ones do. When Lance finally gets done answering all the questions he could, Hunk lowers him back to the sand. 

With a deep breath, shoulders still tense under grey eyed scrutiny, he turns to his team to prepare them for departure. 

“Return to your ships, gather what you need, and report back to me at sundown. We travel under the cover of night as planned. Don’t be late.” Lance says, and his captains disperse, leaving Lance alone with Keith, Hunk, Adam and Pidge. The original gang. How fitting. 

“So, what do we do now?” Pidge asks, sidling up to Lance and taking a hold of his sleeve like she’s a child. Which, technically, she kinda is. She hasn’t reached sixteen yet, and when Lance glances down he sees fear smothered by determination in her eyes. The fear is faint, but it’s there. Lance wraps his arm around her shoulder to give her a quick squeeze, shoulders relaxing knowing she’s by his side again. He isn’t sure when it happened, but he’s become extremely fond and protective of his little protege. 

“Hunk and Adam will gather our things for the rescue, Keith will gather his, and you and I are going to spar.” Lance says, smiling down at Pidge. Pidge, whose eyes widen monumentally in shock. 

“Did you just call Keith by his first name?” Pidge asks, and Lance flushes in embarrassment, feeling heavy violet eyes on his face. 

“No, I did not. Clean your ears out Pidgey. You’re hearing things.” Lance says, not looking her in the eyes and pulling away with a scowl on his lips. “Well? You heard me you three, get outta here!”

“Wow, Keith must be good in bed.” Adam says, and Lance hears Keith choking behind him, but he refuses to look. 

“Uh, I gotta go.” Keith says, and Lance watches as Keith runs past him, firing up his magic to fly through the air with a spell that’s actually crafted by air mages. His fire exudes from the soles of his feet and sends him into the air as he runs, and flies, away from the very embarrassing situation Lance has put them both in.

Lance crosses his arms, looking out onto the water towards his ship and refusing to make eye contact. 

What’s worse about that comment, other than calling them both out on their sexual activities? They haven’t gotten the chance to find out! Lance doesn’t know how good Keith is in bed, because dammit, they never get a moment of respite! Either Keith is busy and Lance is exhausted, or Keith is exhausted and Lance is busy. They were lucky they got to experience those few blissful moments in the dead of the morning, just before the sun rises, where they could just talk. 

_Oh god, what the hell is he thinking!_

Lance is only interested in sex. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn’t want the soft kisses on his forehead Keith gives him when he has to get up and Lance is almost asleep. He doesn’t want that alluring warmth Keith gives off naturally. He doesn’t want the late night/mid morning talks about life, and the past, and magic and the future, and memories. Lance is A-okay living without all of that. He just wants to get laid. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

So what if his stomach gets all twisted when Keith flushes red at his flirting? So what if Lance loves listening to him rant about legends and myths and not-really-real creatures that he thinks are real? So what if Lance loves tucking himself up underneath Keith’s chin at night, nose pressed against Keith’s throat where the smell of a campfire is strongest? Or running his hands loosely through Keith’s- still surprisingly soft, seriously how does he do that?- hair. Or watching Keith work out, or working out with him, or sparring with swords and with magic?

Or hearing Keith whisper his name roughly when they’re making out, no matter who is in control. Like he’s weak in the knees, like he’s gone stupid and he can only remember how to say Lance’s name in that soft, broken, slightly higher pitched than normal voice. It doesn’t mean he _likes_ Keith. He just… 

Okay, no more denying it. Lance is falling for Keith with every second that passes. 

_Dammit he’s falling for Keith, what is happening to him?_

“Okay you three, break it up.” Lance says, silencing the teasing chatter coming out of Hunk, Pidge and Adam’s mouths. Lance _knew_ he shouldn’t have left them three alone for so long, and now they’re ganging up on him. “Hunk, Adam. Leave. Pidge, grab your sword and ready your stance.”

Hunk and Adam walk away laughing and snickering, and Pidge hastily unsheathes her sword, false bravado lighting in her eyes. Behind that false bravado lies dread and anxiousness. Good, she’s not sure she can beat him. (In a sword fight? No. With her strange weapon, hooked on her other hip? Possible if there were trees. Magic? Oh she would wipe the floor with Lance, he knows better than that.) Her unsureness gives Lance the advantage to make her eat sand as payback for the three of them embarrassing him and Keith. 

Now if he could just convince Adam and Hunk to spar against him, he could exact his revenge more thoroughly.


	56. Ice Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is teased by the Captains about his crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooooooooly shit. Guys. Guysguysguys. So, I just finished writing the first draft of chapter 57, and now I'm over 150k for this fic, and still going! My god I never realized how long this fic was gonna be lol!

Keith waits anxiously as the last of the group have yet to arrive. 

The sun is set now, and the only light to see by is the fire James set up before Keith was ready. He’s got his Daibazal clothes on, which consists of a thicker pair of pants and a thicker peasant shirt, and his usual sleeveless coat, topped off with a black cloak. It’s near constant winter on Daibazal, so dressing warm is always a good idea. But returning to Daibazal isn’t what makes Keith nervous. 

Lance is. 

Lance still has his silver eyes, which means he either hasn’t fully recovered from his Spirit Magic Exhaustion, or the silver is permanent. Either way, it’s a bad idea for Lance to be using his ice magic made serpent to transport all fifteen of them, not including Lance himself, over a day away by ship to the shores of Daibazal’s Capital city. The spell is hard enough as is, but not only is Lance transporting himself, but _fifteen other people._ And on top of that?

Daibazal has implemented a blockade around the city port. 

Word came in an hour ago, from Krolia’s Blade leader Kolivan, that Daibazal has caught wind that there is an expected attack. Zarkon doesn’t know when, where, or who from, though that one is most likely suspected to be Altea. This new information threw a small wrench in the plan. They had been planning on using Lance’s ice serpent to get close, stow away on incoming ships, and sneak into town using the crewman of said ships as cover. A blockade means no ships coming or going, so Lance will have to make the entire trip himself. No help from anyone else. 

And Keith tried to see if Ryan or someone else with ice magic could assist, but Lance shot him down. 

According to Lance, everytime someone else tries to mix their magic with Lance’s for a co-casted spell, the magic blows up in their faces. Quite literally actually. Keith wouldn’t know if the volatility of Lance’s magic is due to the whole soul magic thing, or if it’s due to his Spirit Magic, or his personality or what. Keith’s never tried a co-casted spell, he’s never trusted anyone with fire magic enough to get close to attempting it. Oh gods, Keith doesn’t like this. Not one bit. 

At this rate it’s like Lance is _trying_ to bring Death’s fury on himself. 

But who is Keith to get onto him for always over extending his magic limits? It’s not like they’re courting, hell they haven’t even gotten to go all the way yet! Bad enough their sexual escapades are already out in the open, being called out for catching feelings for someone who just wanted a no-strings-attached arrangement would kill him. 

Here lies Keith Kogane, Pirate Captain. Killed in battle by Embarrassment.

Too late to change the plan now. The Red Moon is upon them in a matter of days and Shiro stands within reach now. Keith can almost reach out and grab hold and never let go. He’s so close, closer than he’s ever been to bringing Shiro home. And now, he’s not only going to rescue Shiro, but everyone trapped behind and beneath the Arena walls. Not a large scale blow against the Empire, but a large enough blow against Prince Lotor, who often participates in the bloodshed himself for fun. And against Zarkon’s pride, which could always be knocked down a few pegs. 

Just gotta trust in Lance. 

Lance is smart, powerful, clever, devious. Ruthless when needed, a talented swordsman and even more talented shot. His eye for strategy is marvelous, his instincts sharp. Lance is a good warrior, he can get Keith through this and bring Keith’s brother home at last. He can keep Keith’s hotheaded recklessness in check, which has always been Keith’s biggest issue. 

Just gotta trust in Lance.

“Alright, everyone ready?” Lance asks, having been staring off into the ocean in the direction of Daibazal with arms crossed. Meanwhile Keith is over here having pre-battle jitters so bad he feels like he might throw up, or pass out, whichever comes first. Lance turns to face them all, a hard set to his lips, eyebrows creased and glowing silver eyes focused. Keith’s never seen Lance so professional and serious before, it’s kind of unnerving not seeing his face lit up with a smile at all times. There’s mumbled agreements to Lance’s question, and he nods, turning back to the water for a moment. 

Keith can’t hear what’s being said, but he sees Lance’s lips moving as he mumbles to himself. 

Lance is dressed heavy too, his usual coat tucked beneath a fur lined copy of it, a black cloak hanging off one shoulder and fur lined boots. His usual vibrant blue self has been darkened into a navy blue so dark it looks black in the moonlight, making Lance look like a living shadow with glowing silver eyes.

“Alright, one last time. Stay close, don’t move. Don’t use magic, don’t freak out, and don’t worry about oxygen alright?” Lance says, not turning around but tilting his head to listen for confirmation. When he gets it he takes a deep breath. “Alright, get ready to hold your breath, and close your eyes. I don’t want to be attacked on instinct by any of you.” 

The fifteen of them huddle close as Lance had told them in the last minute war meeting, called due to the last minute news of the blockade.

Keith watches as Lance walks out onto the water, using his ice to make little foot platforms for him to walk along. Keith’s stomach twists in knots as Lance goes out far enough that he turns around, silver eyes closed and arms crossed into an _x._ After a moment, one where a lot of powerful magical energy exudes from Lance in the distance, he drops backwards into the water like he did off of Keith’s ship. Keith doesn’t close his eyes in time, watching the ice and water serpent rise up from the water and charge straight for them. He sucks in a deep breath on instinct, eyes snapping shut as it feels like he just plunged headfirst into the ocean from a hundred foot drop.

Lungs aching, Keith tenses to keep from using his magic, and suddenly he’s being lifted off the ground, his body going weightless in the water for a moment.

After a second of the weightlessness, Keith feels the water rush away from him and he stumbles as his feet connect to ice. Keith snaps his eyes open with a gasp, finding himself watching the others do the same, James and Ryan having fallen on the ice and onto each other. They’re blushing a little as they both stumble to their feet, Ryan first so he can offer James a hand. 

Keith eyes the space they’re in, seeing he’s encased in a gigantic ball of ice. Clear ice, not frosted. So Keith can see Lance, body floating weightlessly in the water with his eyes still closed. He can see the ocean from beneath, as schools of fish scatter out of the way of the ice serpent plunging through the ocean at inhuman speeds. The ocean beneath is beautiful when it isn’t threatening to drown you. 

Coral reefs, fish, jellyfish, sharks. 

He sees it all, rushing past him, or actually, it’s more like he’s rushing past them instead. 

“Wow.” James says, hands pressed against the ice to get as close to the outside as possible without actually doing so. “I’ve seen Lance use the Serpent spell a million times, but I never knew how beautiful it would be to be inside it.”

“It makes you wonder how the Captain feels knowing he can’t open his eyes to see without breaking his concentration and shattering the spell’s hold.” Ryan responds, a sad note in his tone, overshadowed by the awe such beauty and power instills. Keith shakes his head as he watches in awe as well as they pass a little baby whale, who swims alongside them for a moment. Then he watches even further as the serpent and the whale perform a little dance together, as if Lance can see the baby whale and wants to play with it for a moment before they split apart. 

The baby whale calls out as it leaves them to continue on their journey.

“You know,” Keith says, voice quiet even though it echoes in the enclosed space. “I wonder if McClain even realizes the sheer amount of magic power he possesses to create and pull off such powerful magic like this and the Ice Rifle. He could be the most powerful mage in the four kingdoms.”

“I don’t know.” Luxia muses as she steps beside Keith to watch as well. “There's a rumor of a mage in Olkarion who is so powerful she can cause massive Earthquakes in Altea without ever leaving Olkarion.” There’s a few murmurs around the group, and Keith hears someone suck in a sharp breath. He doesn’t turn to look to find out who though, too mesmerized with watching the sea life pass by.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that rumor before too.” Adam says. When Keith turns to look at him, he’s laying down on the ice with his eyes closed, head turned so his ear is pressed to the ice. Must be listening to the sounds of the ocean. “I’ve even tried to see if the rumors are true, but apparently no has ever seen her in person.”

“True, but the rumors are true. Apparently when the mage came into her power, she destroyed one of Olkarions islands at a young age. The place is still uninhabitable, torn to pieces from a child’s tantrum.” Luxia continues. “I’ve been there, I’ve seen the wreckage. Only Earth Magic has the ability to cause such destruction, but I’ve never seen it on such a large scale until then.”

“It always makes me feel weird when I think about the most powerful mages in the four kingdoms.” James chimes in. Keith glances at him, seeing him laying down too, in another part of their icy bubble, eyes wide open to watch the sea above them. 

“Why’s that?” Luxia asks, and Keith is surprised to find no hint of hostility in her tone. Usually these two are at each other’s throats when in such close proximity. Lance, so far, has been the only one able to make them back down. It astounds Keith. The level of loyalty and trust, not only between Lance and the Captains, but Lance and his own crew as well. Watching them all work together, it’s almost like they aren’t Captain and subordinates, but brothers and sisters. Keith’s never had that level of trust with any of his crew, with the small exemption being his own mother. 

And even that took a little bit of work to cultivate. 

“Because on one hand, these mages, who were born with overwhelming power over their magic, can destroy whole cities without breaking a sweat if they wanted to. But on the other hand, those people are ordinary people. Like Lance, like the Olkarion Mage no one has ever seen.” James says. He pauses a moment before shrugging, lifting his arms to interlock his fingers behind his head as a makeshift pillow. “I don’t know. All of these powerful mages could be really bad enemies, people who could own everything they wanted just because they have the power to take it. And then you meet one of them, and he’s an idiotic, scatterbrained, smiley prankster without an ounce of self preservation.”

“And then you decide to make him your leader.” Luxia finishes off. The two of them share a look and laugh, and even Keith can’t help letting a small smile flash on his face. Unfortunately, James spots him smiling and grins wildly.

“Woah Lux, we got the big bad Dragon to smile! That’s the greatest accomplishment anyone could ever do!” James exclaims, and suddenly the entire group is laughing along with him. Keith tries not to look offended, but from the second wave of laughter through them all he doubts he succeeded. 

“I smile!” Keith exclaims defensively, way too defensively. He scowls when he’s only met with another bout of roaring laughter. Even his own _Mother_ is hiding her laughter behind her hand. 

“Yeah okay.” Pidge says, the first one to sober up. “I’ll admit, you do smile.”

Keith almost wants to smile at her, before Hunk picks up where she left off. “At Lance.” 

Pidge nods decisively, muffling her snorting laughs by pinning her lips shut. “Right, he does smile, but only at Lance.”

“And only when he’s not looking.” Adam adds, not even giving Keith the satisfaction of opening his eyes, and Keith feels betrayed right now. Absolutely betrayed. He thought Adam was his _friend._

“I do not!” Keith snaps, stomping his foot into the ice like a child. That just gets him more laughter. “Stop that!”

“Look!” James calls out between harsh laughs, sucking in breaths desperately while clutching his stomach. “He’s blushing! It must be true if he’s blushing!”

Keith’s hair catches on fire, and he immediately turns away from them all with a huff, deciding facing outwards into the ocean is better than facing them teasing him. Keith doesn’t and will never admit it, but he’s pouting. Bottom lip stuck out, arms crossed, shoulders hunched, the whole shebang. Here lies Keith Kogane, Pirate Captain, killed in battle by Embarrassment. This is the way he dies, hair on fire, face on fire, feeling like he was just kicked in the heart. Suddenly an arm slings around his shoulder, making him nearly jump out of his boots. The laughing has quietened down a little.

“Oi, we’re just teasing yuh.” James says, mimicking a northern Daibazalee accent. He does it very good too, to anyone else James would be a northern Daibazalee native. “Seriously, I think there’s a few of us in here who have had a crush on Lance at one point or another.” 

Keith doesn’t hesitate with saying, “I don’t have a crush.” Then he blanks for a moment as he registers what James said. When Keith finally looks up, James’ eyes are genuine. 

“He’s right, I had a huge crush on him for a while. Around the same time he started designing the Ice Rifle.” Ryan says, and his face is completely blank when he says it, so Keith can’t be sure if he’s telling the truth or not. Whether Ryan is trying to placate Keith’s apparently obvious feelings for Lance, or if he’s sharing his own, hard to tell.

“Keith, it’s hard _not_ to like Lance like that, and he doesn’t make it any easier.” Hunk says, completely serious, with a smile to kill. It’s honestly painful to look at Hunk’s smiles sometimes. Way too cheerful and genuine and kind. 

“The only difference is,” James says, leaning in like he’s whispering a conspiracy in Keith’s ear, while lowering his volume in a very loud whisper. “Lance looks at you like that too. He might not realize it though, he’s never been good with his own emotions. Anyone else’s emotions and he’s got everything handled, his own not so much.”

Keith waits a minute to see if anyone starts laughing again but the small group who has gathered around him are dead serious. James, Adam, Ryan, Hunk, Pidge and Luxia. The rest of the group have all split off into their own quiet conversations. 

“You’re lying.” Keith accuses, unwilling to accept that Lance might actually want him _like that._ Why would he? Lance could have anyone in the four kingdoms in his bed at any time and all he has to do is say please and smile that blindingly bright smile of his. No way he’d settle for an old enemy like Keith, there’s way better options out there, and Lance is still young. He has plenty of time to find the perfect match, if he ever even wants to. 

No way he’s into Keith for more than sexual relief.

“What makes you think I would lie about something like my Captain’s emotions?” James demands, eyes narrowing in offense. Keith doesn’t know how to respond to that. James glares at him for a moment before sighing and pulling away. “Look, Keith. We all knew for sure that he was into you that night on the ship, where you told us your country's old legends.”

“He’s right you know.” Luxia says. “The entire time you were telling stories, Lance couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He probably thought he hid it well, but we all know him, have known him for a few years now. We see the look he gets when he looks at you, he’s the only one who doesn’t realize what’s going on in his heart.”

“Might I give you a suggestion Keith?” Adam says. His brown eyes are softer than usual, they’re usually pretty hard to read. Right now his eyes read nothing but affection and nostalgia. Keith nods at him after a brief hesitation. “Don’t waste any time. If I had gone after Shiro in the first place, perhaps I could have kept him out of the Arena. It’s a regret I’ll never live down. Don’t be like me, don’t let the one you love walk away without even trying to follow.” 

Keith bites at the inside of his cheek, unsure what he’s supposed to say, when there’s a sudden lurch upwards. Keith looks up, finding the surface growing closer. They haven’t reached their destination, but Lance already warned them he would have to make frequent stops to replenish the oxygen and catch his own breath. 

“Looks like it’s break time everyone.” Luxia calls out into their icy bubble.


	57. Ocean Currents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is injured during a particular stretch of the trip in the Serpent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait everybody!

Lance is exhausted by the time they close in on the shores of Daibazal's capital city. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves using his Ice Serpent. It’s one of his greatest creations, his greatest of spells. He may just use it mainly for transportation but this spell is a beast in a sea-battle, whenever he gets the chance to use it. There are only two downsides to using the Serpent. One, he doesn’t get to witness the beauty that lies beneath the ocean with his own eyes, and while his magic allows him to ‘see’ by magic, it’s not the same. The other downside is the magic output it takes to use it. 

When he first created the spell, it wasn’t nearly as intricate as it is now, and he could only hold the base version of the Serpent together for a max of two minutes. 

So using it for hours on end, with only short breaks for water, food, and a solid breath of fresh air? Well, he’s not excited at the prospect of what will happen when it’s time to get some sleep. It’s a good thing the trip to the cabin Keith is making them use until the raid won’t take too long to get to. They’ll stay there for two days and a night, to allow Lance a chance to recover and to solidify their plan, scout for regular updates, the whole shebang. 

He just hopes he can stay awake and unfrozen long enough to get there. 

Lance slows his serpent down as they come across the blockade they had been just barely warned about. He’s impressed. Not only has Daibazal pulled out all the stops in vessels to patrol the water, but they have Water Mage divers scouting underwater for an intruder as well. Very nice, very tight security. Too bad they’re getting duped by The Serpent himself. Lance pulls back, going just far enough to allow some of the fog on the water to give them cover as he resurfaces. Ryan quickly creates a makeshift raft of ice for them all to rest on so Lance doesn’t have to exert unnecessary magic. 

“What’s up Captain?” Ryan asks as Lance catches his breath. He’s panting, and he’s glad he’s wearing gloves because Keith will freak out if he sees Lance’s fingertips have frozen over. Lance estimates a maximum of maybe two hours before the frost reaches visible patches of skin. It’s crawling a lot slower than before, probably because he’s drawing from the water around him instead of producing his own out of nothing. 

“Blockade is pretty tight, they have divers going down a couple hundred feet below sea level.” Lance explains. 

“What are we gonna do?” Luxia asks. Lance’s lips fall into a frown as he shivers, holding his hands out gratefully over the small flame Keith makes. Small enough to not be an attention attracter, but big enough to provide warmth. 

“The deeper I go, the harder it is to keep my magic under control, like the deeper waters are more volatile than surface waters. Not to mention the water pressure, and the fact that I’m hauling a miniature army’s worth of people.” Lance explains. “I can do it, but the ride won’t be comfortable. I’ll have to move fast, and since we’ll be so deep there won’t be any light. And no one can use magic either because it’ll take away my concentration.”

“Why can’t we use our magic?” Pidge asks, and Lance recognizes that note of curiosity in her voice. 

“Look, it’s bad enough with you guys moving around and talking okay? I don’t use the Ice Serpent, I become it.” Lance says, slightly annoyed as he shivers again. He would bet his own mother on the fact that the frost has probably crawled up to his knuckles by now. “Can you imagine having a living being inside your stomach, moving around, making noise, and using magic? Cause that’s what it feels like. No. Magic.”

“That’s disturbing.” Adam says. Lance snorts in amusements, rubbing his hands together to try and generate some warmth to ward off the frost. 

“McClain.” Keith says, and Lance looks up from the fire in Keith’s hand. Uh oh, Keith doesn’t look very happy right now. “If I remove your gloves, what will I find?”

Hunk and Pidge both look at Lance with worry at that, while the others watch confused. _Wow, thanks Keith, old buddy old pal. Thanks for ratting me out._ Lance schools his expression into careful neutrality. “You got me, I’m not Lance, I’m not human and you’ll find metal hands.”

“Lance are you over exerting yourself again?” Hunk asks. Lance rolls his eyes and goes to reply but something in the distance catches his eye. It’s coming from the direction of the blockade. “Lance-”

Lance shushes him, keeping his eye on the curious spot that captured Lance’s attention for some reason. For a long minute all Lance sees is fog and water. He squints, allowing his eyes to focus sharply on whatever caught his attention. It takes a moment but finally he catches a glimpse of a small scouting ship, with mages aboard. Lance sucks in a sharp breath. 

"Scout ship, that direction. Ryan on the count of three I want you to drop your magic. If we're doing this we're doing it now." Lance says, looking Ryan in the eye to make sure he understood. Ryan nods with a look of worry, but Lance ignores it. He’s not ready to go back to using his magic so much, but the only other option is staying in the direct path of the scout ship and risk the entire operation. Therefore, risking the rescue of Shirogane. Therefore breaking the deal with Keith. Ultimately, most likely leading to Lance’s own demise.

No thanks.

“One.” Lance whispers, rubbing his hands together quickly to get some feeling back as he begins pooling his magic energy in the water around them, while keeping the magic output low enough to not draw attention to other water mages around. “Two.” He really doesn’t want to go back. It’s uncomfortable transporting other people, let alone so many of them. Lance sucks in a deep breath, closes his eyes, and crosses his arms. On his exhale, he breathes out, “Three.” Lance and the group all fall into the water, but before they can make a loud splash, Lance swallows them up with his magic and immediately dives deep underwater to avoid detection. 

It’s the deepest he’s ever gone so far away from any shore. 

Lance struggles to keep his magic intact as the ocean itself threatens to tear it apart. The waters are volatile, refusing to bend to his will with a resistance that makes Lance’s head hurt. Everything he prides himself on about the Serpent spell is slowly being ripped away at by the underwater currents. The ocean isn’t like other sources of water. Rivers, wells, streams, lakes. All of those bodies of water are docile and willing to be used by the mages who command them. Water is almost like a breathing creature. Of the four main elements, water and fire are the strongest elements to wield due to their unpredictability. Air is constant. Earth is serene. 

And the ocean itself?

The ocean is old, it’s knowledgeable. Willful and hard to master. The ocean waters, especially deeper than the surface, don't experience the command of mages very often. So the fact that Lance is trying to do just that isn’t a very pleasant thing for the ocean to experience. It’s fighting against him like he’s trying to cage a wild beast. Another wild current tears at Lance’s spell, and it manages to dislodge a piece of the Ice Armor. Unwilling to let the armor hinder his travels any longer, he allows his magic to strip the Serpent down to the bare form he started out with so many years ago. 

Lance feels it as the Serpent is sent careening to the side harshly and he concentrates on righting himself and keeping the Ice Sphere holding his friends intact as much as possible. In his efforts, he forgoes his own protection, and a water current slice at the head of the Serpent, nearly hitting Lance fatally. He manages to get by with just a gash in his human body, half the serpent head dispersed and leaving him open to attack by the creatures that reside in the dark of the depths. A heavy shiver running down his human spine breaks his concentration for a moment, and he feels the sphere crack from the pressure of the ocean. 

It feels like someone stabbed him in the stomach.

Lance hurries, racing the Serpent as fast and as far as he can without losing his tenuous hold on his spell. It’s a close one, but when Lance finally deems it safe enough to surface, everyone is intact. He gasps desperately when his human eyes snap open, finding himself on the floating raft of ice Ryan makes for their breaks. The fog on the ocean has lifted just enough for sunlight to peek through. 

“Lance don’t move, you’re injured.” Pidge says, and Lance jerks as one of his layers is tugged away and the chill gets worse. Pidge growls. “Someone hold him still before he makes it worse!”

Hands, hands everywhere. 

Holding him at his shoulders, on his arms, his wrists. His thighs, his calves and ankles. Lance fights as agonizing pain ripples through his body. Warm hands settle on his face and Lance pulls his eyes open like they’ve been glued shut. Pretty violet eyes look at him, wide with worry and fear. Lance settles down as he stares into those pretty violet eyes. 

“That’s it.” Keith says. His voice is shaky, but it still soothes Lance as the strange feeling of someone else’s magic touching his rolls through him. “Keep looking at me. Don’t think about anything else.”

“Get him talking Keith, if he goes unconscious I need to know.” Pidge says. 

Keith’s eyes leave him for a moment, and Lance seizes in pain. They come back a mere second later but that second lasted a lifetime. “Hey McClain? Remember that night on my ship? The one where we were talking about our ancient legends? Sing me the song of the Maiden again. It’s my favorite.”

Lance smiles weakly at the memory, eyes closing as he recalls that night. They were curled up in bed in the rare hours where they were both off duty. Lance was telling him about ancient legends from his home country, while Keith regaled him with stories of mythical creatures from his. They somehow came back around to the story about the Maiden, and Keith asked him to sing in the original language. 

“Hey Lance. Lance, open your eyes. The song, remember? Sing me the song.” Keith demands patting his cheek and Lance peels his eyes open again as some of the pain starts to fade. Lance swallows thickly as he tries to recall the song in his country’s ancient language. His mouth forms the syllables but his voice doesn’t come out smooth like it usually does. It comes out thick and warbled and broken. 

“That’s it, keep singing for me Lance.” Keith says. Lance nods and swallows again, wincing as the two magics touching his own hit a particularly painful spot. He can’t see what it is they’re doing, and frankly he isn’t sure he wants to know how bad the ocean tore him up. How fitting, a water mage, injured and dying by the ocean itself. How ironic. “You aren’t dying you idiot, now sing or so help me god.”

Lance obeys, if only to make the panic in Keith’s eyes go away. 

Lance’s mouth opens again, but the moment the first word in the ancient language is sung, his stomach lurches violently and he’s thrown so hard into a vision it’s like his brain slammed against his own skull. He falls unwillingly into the vision. 

Why do these things always happen to Lance?


End file.
